Faith and Duty: Aftermath
by Dragunov888
Summary: Set immediately after the Great Thaw, Queen Elsa must face threats from all sides if she is to survive, let alone stay on the throne. Of all the enemies she faces though, her greatest might be herself.
1. Ch 1- The Snow Settles

July 15th, 1840

2nd Night of the Great Freeze

The column of men trudged through the snow, the once ordered formation having been reduced to a shamble. It was not lack of discipline, but soldiers forced to face the reality of a freak mid-summer storm without preparation.

They were the Queen's Own Grenadiers Regiment, Arendelle's premier Line Infantry Regiment. They had less training in mountain and ski warfare than the Gebirgsjager, but more discipline and supporting elements, which included a Battalion of Artillery and a Squadron of Cavalry. Tough, loyal and brave, they were the Army's go-to expeditionary force.

The Regiment had just returned from a campaign against warlords in the mountain when this freak storm struck, grinding their march to a near halt. It took them two days to cover a day's march, and that was when they were fresh. They had rearranged the column, with the Cavalry upfront, Artillery middle and Infantry to the rear to march through the now cleared path. While this helped, men could hardly keep being exposed to the weather.

They had marched off to campaign with summer provisions. As such winter clothing was rare, and the men had begun to march wrapped in blankets. They marched village to village, taking shelter in the homes of Arendelle's country folk. This also led to the Quartermasters trading food and supplies for clothing, alleviating the problem of the cold.

Among the soldiers was Private 1st Class Mikael Eriksen. The 16 year old struggled as his light frame was crushed by the heavy pack he carried on top of the makeshift shawl he had made his wool issued blanket into. He had gotten a scarf and sweater at the last village, but no gloves. His face was obscured with the scarf wrapped around it and his wool _Krätzchen _cap snuggly pressed down. He had wrapped his hands with his spare set of foot wraps, as he trudged along with his Dreyse Needle gun slung.

It was hardly the homecoming Mikael had in mind. He had enlisted with the army under his oldest brother Johann, who was an Officer in the Grenadiers. His middle older brother Dieter was a Royal Guardsman and did not accompany them to the campaign. This campaign, they had traded their old rifled muskets and ornate uniforms for the newest in technology. Dreyse Needle Guns, the same rifles the Prussians were set to adopt, as well as practical light-weight wool tunics and the new Pickelhaube helmet. And yet they would march home wrapped up like old women.

Mikael kept trudging, sure to avoid the horse shit in the trampled snow when he began to make out the dim lights of a village, making him sigh with relief. As late as it was, they were sure to stop and quarter in the village for the night.

…

Marshal Paulus Hindsfjell was warming himself by the fire when the door opened, bringing an officer into the room, as planned. He stiffened up as he felt the momentary draft of wind, before turning to face his expected company. The was the other senior officer arriving for a late-night meeting as the enlisted men and junior officers bedded down in the houses and barns of the village.

The man paused to click their heels and nodding, sure to give him the respect he was owed, as comical as he thought that was. He was a tall, overweight man with a poorly groomed moustache, and he knew it. He was never one for extreme discipline or tirelessly drilling his men more than necessary. He owed his position to luck, bravery, and an unflinching command style in combat.

The first man was his opposite in many respects, but was his right hand man. General Erik Wilhelmsen was his Chief of Staff, the man who handled the details of running an army. Energetic, intelligent, and attentive to detail, the man constantly worked to make Arendelle's army a well-oiled machine. However in crisis Erik had a tendency to lose his head or suffer a panic attack. He was hardly a coward, and was always one to charge right back into things as soon as he calmed down.

The two together were a force to be reckoned with as Paulus never cracked, and Erik was tireless in getting the men ready. When King Agdar was alive, the two served as Chief of Staff and Quartermaster General. Although the then Princess Elsa bravely took on much responsibility even when faced with the tragedy of her parent's death, the girl wisely passed Military manners to him as she continued education in such matters. In the meanwhile, Paulus was forced to take on the role as Commander in Chief, a role he was glad to turn over to the rightful Queen, at least until this damned storm hit.

"How are the boys doing, Erik?"

"They all have proper shelter, Paul. Most of the citizens where happy to accommodate us, but a few had to be… persuaded."

"This isn't France, Erik. These are own people, and we can't mistreat them."

"With all due respect, I don't care. I will not see my boys get frostbite because some snobbish civilians don't want to share their homes."

The fat marshal laughed, shaking his head. "Erik, this is why you'll never get my job. You're an ass!"

"You mean I don't kiss ass." The Thin man retorted, grinning at his superior officer and long friend.

"Still. Even if they weren't willing, ensure they all get some compensation. We don't want to piss off our new queen, do we?"

"Only if we ever reach her, Kamerat. Only if we ever reach her."

…

Mikael woke up, sweating profusely. The young man was confused, as he shivered and tossed and turned for a good hour last night trying to sleep due to the cold, and that was with a fire going in the fireplace. To his left and right, his comrades slept in the large pile of men and wool blankets, who had huddled together for warmth on the floor.

He rose, baffled and mystified by the abundant sunlight and lack of cold. He slipped on his Jackboots, before heading out doors. He stopped, breathless.

It was summer again.

It made no sense, no matter how he thought about it. Last night there was feet of snow, but now it had suddenly vanished. Not all of it, as he figure an inch or two remained, but was quickly melted by the sunlight save for the patches still in the shade, and even those wouldn't last long. It couldn't have possibly have melted though. A native of Arendelle, he knew all about the spring floods. That much snow melt instantly could very well have caused a disaster. But other than mud from the inch or two that still existed, there was no indication of vast quantities of melted snow. No raging rivers, no large puddles, nothing.

Of all of the Eriksen boys, Mikael was the only one to seriously follow his father's _Asatru _faith, rather than his mother's Christianity. As such, he was convinced that there was only one explanation: Sorcery. It dawned on him that the earlier Blizzard got _worse_ as they neared the capital, meaning whatever was going on, Arendelle was the epicenter of the madness.

_Gods above, protect Queen Elsa and my family from this vile sorcery…_

…

Night of July 17th, 1840

Evening of the Great Thaw

Queen Elsa escaped from her own victory party, her hands clutching the marble railing while she began to hyperventilate. It had started from a harmless ceremony. A latecomer to the coronation was a young officer who was to be knighted for meritorious service. He had cleared everything with the Royal Guard, going as far as being voluntarily escorted for the event. Even though Elsa was informed, her mind went blank with fear when she saw a man approach with a naked blade.

She stared in horror as her bare hands froze the stone, coating it in a layer of ice. The very fear of causing another winter made it worse, with the balcony quickly freezing over. A Guardsman investigating the Queen's sudden disappearance took one glance, and followed his orders. He slammed the door, shielding the Queen from prying eyes, before immediately setting off for the miracle cure. He quickly found Princess Anna, clearly the center of the party.

"Princess Anna? Queen Elsa _urgently _requests your presence…"

Princess Anna, despite being a fairly care-free girl loving her second party after 13 years of isolation, never fooled around when it came to her sister, especially now that they finally reunited. "Where is she?!"

The Guardsman quickly led Anna to the nearly frosted over door, opening it and quickly letting her slip in before closing. Smooth and disciplined, he quickly took up guard. It was as if nothing had happened.

On the other side Anna embraced Elsa, the power of love quickly causing ice to disappear and the balcony returning to normal. Elsa's clutched the back of her sister's dress, reveling in her sister's love. The fear was gone.

Anna though was not content with the mere fading of ice.

"Elsa, what's wrong? I thought you had control over your ice powers?"

"I do, Anna. But also I don't." She sat down on a stone bench, sighing as she struggled to explain. "With you present, I have full control now. But fear and anxiety still cause me to lose control, at least I think."

"What were you afraid of?

Elsa sighed, casting her eyes down as she recollected the terrifying event. "I saw a sword, and I was suddenly back on the ice."

Anna face light up in realization, her own bad memories coming to bear. "Hans?"

"Hans." Elsa nodded.

"Well, Hans is on a ship surrounded by Guardsmen who aren't exactly… _happy _with him." Anna chirped with a certain degree of satisfaction. She was certain that hers was hardly the only fist to connect with Hans today.

"True."

"Speaking of that, why _are _we sending Hans back home? Isn't that setting him free?"

"King Frederick wants to punish his son. After cutting ties, I sent him back his bastard son. I'm sure his father's wrath is enough punishment."

"Woah, talk about cold blooded!" Elsa shot her sister a cold look. "Okay, I _swear _that was unintentional! Honest!"

Elsa smiled as Anna minced words, recovering from her annoyance at the cold pun. Imitating Anna she brought up an old point of sibling conflict. "I don't need a tutor to teach me how to talk!"

Anna shot a glare back, before shaking her head, laughing. Anna was notorious for poor grades and playing hooky during the 13 years of isolation, compared to Elsa, the model student. The two stopped sharing most classes, but both were aware of the other's scholarly activities.

"Well, at least I _passed _my Home Economics class. Seriously, how did you fail that class, it was-"Anna stopped as she saw Elsa turn beet red in embarrassment.

Pausing in the middle of a laugh, Anna asked "What?"

"Anna, how did you think I failed Home-Ec?"

"Well duh, for once graceful Elsa herself was the klutz and nearly burned the kitchen down. Not surprising given your prior attempts at cooking." Anna said a matter of factly.

"Anna, that's… _not _what happened."

"What did happen?"

"Well, while watching her make the sample I… _became a woman_, which caused me to panic and freeze the room, causing the fire." Elsa quickly and quietly rattled off, deeply embarrassed.

"Became a woman?"

Elsa furtively glanced down at her nether regions, before looking back up.

"You had your first period?" Anna asked incredulously, beginning to chuckle.

"Don't laugh! I was locked in my room and even _I heard _the commotion of your first menstruation!"

"Yeah but I'm a walking train wreck. My period causing a calamity was expected. _You_ freaking out is what I find funny!"

They were interrupted by the arrival of Kai, their steward. A friend of the family since both himself and their father were children, he had proved loyal through thick and thin. A large man, he quickly presented himself, bowing. His face clearly betrayed his worry.

"Your Majesty, I came as soon as I was informed. Are you all right?"

Elsa straightened her posture, assuming a manner of grace and authority of a Queen. At this point it was second nature. "Yes, Kai. Anna calmed me down."

"I see. Your Majesty, if you desire I can send the guests back home- It's been a long 4 days."

Elsa turned to her sister for approval. Elsa was not afraid of who she was now, even if she was a little afraid of hurting people, hence her hasty exit. But Elsa was exhausted, barely sleeping during the Great Freeze. But she hardly wanted to ruin her socially active sister's fun either.

"Inform the guests that I will be retiring for the evening. However, they are free to stay as long as Anna wishes it."

Anna put her hand up, interjecting on the young Queen's orders. "No Kai. Send them home. I have a surprise for Elsa."

…

Anna led her sister up to the bedroom, pausing at the indomitable barrier that had been impenetrable for 13 long, lonely years. Pausing to knock, she instead went and opened the doors, opening the door. Inside the Queen's room was Anna's bed, with a few pieces of added furniture.

"Anna, it's just like…"

"Yes, just like when we were kids! We can have pillow fights, sleepovers, and make up all of those _years_!"

"Anna, how did-"

"I had the servants move them in while you were busy. Do you like it!?" Anna proclaimed proudly, bouncing up and down as she rattled off the explanation.

"It's… wonderful!" Elsa said with mixed feelings. More than _anything _Elsa craved a total reconnection with her sister… _but _Elsa wasn't eight any more. She liked her private space. For now though, she was genuinely open to the idea. She'd give it a night or two before easing Anna back to her old room.

In the meanwhile, the two entered the room as another aftershock was noticed. Two armed Guardsmen took position, standing guard. Elsa didn't think all the guards were necessary, but it made Captain Edvard feel better so Elsa didn't raise the issue yet. They closed the door behind Elsa, leaving the two sisters to their privacy.

It wasn't truly "old times", as Elsa moved out of Anna's room, but it was close enough. Anna took part in her own tradition of leaping onto her bed, as Elsa walked over to the bed, sitting down gently. As they tore off their shoes and undid their hair, Anna addressed something that bothered her for days.

"So… what's up with the dress?"

"Oh. When I made my Ice Castle, I also created _this." _Elsa began while presenting her creation with a hand wave. "Not sure how. I guess my feelings and self-image materialized into this dress."

"How does that work? How does ice form into a cloth?"

"I believe they link like scales… or something."

"What happened to the old one?"

I don't know. This one materialized over it. Hold on." With a wave of magic she undid the magic. Her old dress was still there, but not really. The transformation dissipated the ice scales that defined her dress, leaving only the backing which the old dress had become. The dress still retained the plunging neck line and side slits, and Elsa noted that the stockings that she had worn for her coronation had disappeared with her shoes.

Anna stood in shock. "Elsa that was a _very _expensive dress. Heck, you were the one who told me to be _careful _with that dress!"

Elsa chuckled nervously, as she considered how much of the taxpayers' money was just ruined with the dress. "Well, it could be worse, I could be naked…" A moment of silence passed before both laugh at that thought.

The next hour had Elsa and Anna talk as they changed, mostly about their separate adventures. A habit from their youth remerged, as the two sisters continued to talk even after the lights went out, trading jokes and stories. Unlike their youth however, it wasn't long before Anna passed out, leaving a somewhat anxious Elsa to prepare to fall asleep. However, it didn't take much before she passed out. She had expected nightmares, but her sleep was without trouble. Her brain didn't even bother to dream as the body recovered from several bouts of adrenaline boosts with a deep, deep sleep.

It was Anna who had trouble sleeping. Not from ghosts, but from her sister. She had forgotten that Elsa had a tendency to cool the room while she slept, as her mind subconsciously altered the environment to make her "comfy." Anna only had summer bedding, forcing her to make a cocoon, even then waking up every so often, clearly seeing her breath.

By morning Anna had decided that she would sleep in her own room from then on.

…

Mikael and his comrades marched along, a different army from last night. Before they had trudged through the snow, their snow-logged packs dragging them down as only discipline kept them going. Now wearing their light wool summer uniforms and Pickelhaube again, they marched swiftly and proudly. Even the dark did not dampen their spirits, if anything they marched faster because of it. The drums played some Prussian beat that kept the soldiers in step- even now there was an audible rhythmof hobnails stomping against stone as they climbed the hill.

Mikael's brother Nikolas stepped out, addressing the Company. An Officer as well as the oldest Eriksen boy, Nikolas was a noble, intelligent, and hardworking young man. However, the 22 year old thought _very _highly of himself, causing the young siblings to give him trouble whenever possible. To Mikael's dismay the young officer had received the Order of the Grabacr, for service. He was quiet now, but Mikael was sure that Nikolas would not shut up once they had returned home.

"Come-on boys! Arendelle is just over the ridge!" Nikolas' barrel chested body shook as he shouted, before removing his Pickelhaube to wipe his forehead and rough his dark brown hair. "We're almost home!"

A shout of joy rose from the ranks, as they pushed themselves over the hill. They all figured something had happened to their fair capital, and were mentally prepared to fight for it. After the disappointing campaign against cowardly warlords and pirates in the hinterland, they itched for a true, good fight.

So it surprised them all when they finally got a glimpse of Arendelle at how quiet and peaceful the city was. A halt was given, followed by a fallout, leaving the men to meander and stare at the glowing city. As he shed his pack and Pickelhaube, cavalrymen rode to meet the Regiment's Colonel, Colonel Erik Marcks. The cavalry had scouted ahead, finding Arendelle to be secure. As such, the night's orders were given.

For Mikael's company, the order was given by Lieutenant Nikolas, as the Company Commander was busy.

"Rest easy tonight boys. Tomorrow we go on Parade."

…

Dieter groaned at the mental exhaustion of a very busy day. In the span of a very long Scandinavian summer day, he had partook in and then foiled a coup, witnessed the Great Thaw, apprehended a traitor, received several commendations, took his sister Ice Skating, and was about to finish the last thing before he could go to sleep- transfer to the Queen's Own Personal Guard. It wasn't a huge administrative move, but it was a pain to do it at 11 at night.

"There you go, Corporal." The Seamstress handed his altered uniform, including his new decorations. The paperwork had mostly been finished, but he needed the uniform to officially report to his new Commander. He thanked and paid the woman, before changing and gathering his kit, saying farewell to his comrades before going to the other Barracks.

He entered the new Guardroom, surprised at what he saw. He always imagined the Queen's Own by their professional image, of perfect discipline and steely resolve. Instead he found a room full of men lazing about, drinking, cursing and horse playing. One took notice of him long enough to direct him.

"Ah, new guy's here. Go talk to the Sergeant, he's expecting you."

Dieter shied away from the group, entering the Sergeant's office. He found a middle aged man sitting at his desk, tunic unbuttoned and not a care to who sees it. He looked up, seeing his new addition.

"Close the door."

"Yes Sergeant." Dieter closed the door behind him. The man stood, still not buttoning his tunic. Even still, the Sergeant had an impressive amount of awards.

"Right. Down to business. I'm not going to fucking lie, I don't know about you. Most Guardsmen are still breaking in their boots after four days, not being selected for this position. That being said, half my men don't have _that _either." He began, jabbing at Dieter's Silver Crocus, 1st class. "So I'm willing to _entertain _the thought of keeping you on. Name's Sergeant Hvitstrom." Oddly, he stuck his hand out, shaking Dieter's hand.

"I run things differently here. We're all at least Lance-Corporals here, as such I treat you all like men. No bullshit, but you take full accountability for your actions. Keep your gear in shape, and keep _that" _pointing to the Guardsmen in the other room, "In here. Out there I expect nothing but the highest professionalism. Dismissed."

Dieter exited the room, going back out into the day room, where his new comrades awaited him. A man wearing a Sergeant's uniform rose, reaching out to shake his hand.

"Welcome to the Queen's Own! Name's Hans."

On cue, a Lance Corporal rose, bowing. "Your Majesty."

Hans turned, a scowl on his face. "Beat your face, Bjorn."

Without hesitation, the Lance Corporal began doing floor-dips, a smile still on his face.

"Bjorn's a good soldier, but he's also a fucking smartass. He and a few other jokers have been making that joke non-stop since the Great Freeze. They have paid dearly for it." He turned, where Bjorn was beginning to slow in his cadence. "Keep it up, asshole."

He turned back to Dieter, pointing to an open door. "That's your room."

Dieter paused, puzzled. "MY room?"

"What, you think we live in a barracks? We're prepared to lay our lives down in a heartbeat for the Queen, you damned right you get you own room! Now get settled in, prepare you kit, and prepare for tomorrow. You start duty at 8 AM."

Dieter nodded, before turning to settle in his own room, closing the door, he prepared his uniform for the next day, which didn't take too long since he just had it cleaned and altered. After that minor detail he undressed, and set up his personal effects. Exhausted, he turned off the lamp, going to sleep for what seemed like the first time in forever.

Bit of Notes-

Merry Christmas y'all!

It took me a good minute to finish this chapter, as I struggled to lay down the foundation for another story. I am a bit iffy though, on going forward. Faith and Duty was easy thanks to the fact that the script was already written- all I did was write down the reactions of the soldiers. Now I'm in uncharted territory.

My biggest thing is I'm fairly self-conscious on how I write the sisterly banter. I have a brother and two sisters, but most of my interaction was with my oldest brother, and as such, I do feel that my Anna and Elsa treat each other more like brothers than sisters. IE me giving my brother endless crap. I try to not do that, but that's my sibling connection, and why I love Frozen.

This chapter was fairly slow, I know, but next chapter has Elsa's first council meeting, as well as the Grenadiers returning home, so fun times for all.

Glossary-

Pickelhaube- Famous Prussian spiked leather helmet war up to and through the First World War. While not effective at protecting the wearer, the helmet was a sizeable upgrade from the fall and cumbersome Shako.


	2. Ch 2- Refreeze

July 18th, 1840

Captain Eadan Mackenzie sat in the chair, self-conscious as hell. Waiting in the hall to meet Queen Elsa, he was understandably anxious meeting Royalty, especially a Sorceress-Queen. It wasn't even his job to do this sort of thing. He was the senior Officer of the Dunbroch embassy here in Arendelle. Despite the Diplomatic posting, he had very little experience in Diplomacy. His job was to keep the Embassy safe and report back military findings that concern Dunbroch. However, the Ambassador had been recalled for a personal debriefing with Queen Elinor, leaving Eadan to re-negotiate terms with this new Queen.

It wasn't that there weren't other diplomats who could talk with the Queen, but the cowards had insisted that only he was high ranking enough to discuss matters with Queen Elsa. So here the Highlander sat, wearing a blue tunic and a full kit, with excess fabric draped over his shoulder. The audience now only minutes away, the young officer looked over his uniform, looking for deficiencies, trying to look perfect. Finally, after an eternity, the overweight Steward opened the door, stepping out.

Eadan stood, straightening out his military tunic in a final attempt to look sharper. "Well?"

"The Queen will see you now."

Eadan sighed in relief that the Steward knew English. He was held up for almost an hour earlier today, due to the Gate Guards' inability to speak English, and his own failure of Norwegian and German. A simple request for entry, even with an invitation led to two men screaming at other in guttural language, as more Guards arrived also unknowing. Even the first Officer to arrive was clueless, with the second actually understanding English. He really did not need any more drama.

He stood up, thanked the Steward and was gestured into the room, where Eadan saw them. First was Queen Elsa, refined and reposed, wearing an Ice dress just like from the stories. She wore a crown as well which sat on her platinum blond hair and the gems complementing her vivid blue eyes. The description given by the Lieutenant who had attended the coronation was hardly exaggerated.

Unexpected was the presence of her sister, the Crown Princess Anna. While also a beautiful young girl, she lacked the… grace of the Queen. She hardly stood still, bouncing slightly as if suffering from some need to constantly be in motion. She wore a plain dress, one more suited for a well-to-do townswoman, instead of a Princess. This combined with her Reddish hair, freckles, and youth reminded him of the Princess Merida. Which wasn't necessarily a good thing…

"Your Highness, My name is Captain Eadan Mackenzie of Dunbroch. It is a pleasure to meet you." He tried not to, but his nervousness led to his accent coming on thick, with rolling r's and what not.

The Queen drew a breath to speak but was cut off by a rattle of German from the Princess Anna. Like most German speakers, Anna had an odd way of hitting every hard syllable and letter, while sprinting through the sentence.

"Elsa, warum ist er trägt ein Kilt? Das ist seltsam! Ich habe noch nie einen gesehen! Warten Sie, kann er mich verstanden? Oh, bitte nicht, mir zu sagen, er uns verstehen können!"

The Queen calmly relied in a slower, more deliberate but equally unintelligible response.

"Nein, er spricht nur Englisch, jetzt lassen Sie mich dies zu beenden.

The princess rolled her eyes, before muttering a simple "Fein." She mumble something after that that he couldn't pick up, but could have sworn sounded English.

The Queen turned back to Eadan, continuing. "I am very sorry about that. Anna can interrupt sometimes." Eadan was surprised by the Queen's Excellent English. While it still had a German accent, grammatically speaking it was sound. If anything it was technically superior to his own.

"Now, what is it you wished to discus with me Captain?"

"Well you see your Majesty, the events of the last several days certainly have caused a need to… reevaluate our nation's partnership."

"I see. Dunbroch wishes to withdraw our Alliance."

"God no, your Majesty!" The outburst startled the Queen and the Captain, who turned red at a result before finishing the thought.

"Dunbroch is committed to maintaining a strong Alliance between our great nations. However, finding out you can cast magic changes things on a base level. As such, we must redefine our Economic, Political, and most importantly, our military relationship."

"That is actually very well thought out, Captain. At this point some countries have openly declared they want nothing to do with us, mostly the Catholic ones. It's nice to know your leaders are so understanding."

"Well, you can say Queen Elinor has a special… perspective on magic…"

"I am guessing I do not want to know."

"No you don't. Back to the topic at hand, I would like to have a greater understanding of your magic. In regards to military manners."

The Queen shifted her eyes down, while clutching her arms, as the Princess glared at him with a stare that could strip paint. The latter puzzled him, leading him to wonder if Princess Anna could speak English. It was time to backpedal.

"If your majesty would rather not discuss the matter…"

"Yes Captain, I am very busy today. I would prefer it if you left."

"Very well." Eadan turned and left, after a quick bow. He knew better than to push in diplomacy, and if the Queen did not wish to discuss military ramifications, it was better not to force her too. Hopefully she would be agreeable in a few days, or he would be finding a new post…

…

As soon as the door closed, Anna erupted.

"Can you believe that guy?! Of all of the things he could talk about, he wants to talk about how good of a weapon you are?! What a jerk!"

"Anna I'm not mad at him. I do not want to discuss that, but he was doing his job."

"It's his job to be rude?"

"No. He's a soldier. He doesn't know about trade deals or politics. The only thing he's knowledgeable on is military manners."

"Still." Anna paused, her mind instantly switching to another grievance. "And why didn't you let me handle this? I can be your diplomat!"

"Anna, just because you can speak a few-"

"Elsa, I can speak English, French, German, Norwegian, and Polish fluently. I am conversational in Swedish, Russian, and Danish. I also know Latin and Gaelic, but those don't really get spoken so, forget them.

Elsa paused, thrown aback at how many languages she knew. Elsa had no idea how gifted Anna was.

"Anna, how did you…"

"Elsa, remember when we really young and we talked about when you would be Queen?"

Elsa struggled to bring up that long lost memory. Ah yes, a few days before _the_ accident…

"We agreed that you would Queen, and I would travel and tell how wonderful you were to all of Europe. Even after we were separated, I still hoped that one day I could do that! And well, I was stuck in a castle for 13 years with nothing better to do so…"

Elsa stood aghast at how she had so underestimated her little sister. She had always viewed herself as the scholar of the two, and while she loved Anna dearly, she also enjoyed being superior academically. Yet Elsa had just learned she was an imbecile in the language department compared to Anna. She struggled to simply learn English and Norwegian, with German being her birth language. She knew a little French, Danish, Russian and Swedish, but never enough to get by.

Still, it wasn't Anna's linguistic skills Elsa feared for.

"Anna, it's not just about being able to talk with them. It's being able to talk to people you don't like."

"I'm not that short tempered!"

"Oh really." Elsa mentally sorted out all of the upcoming meetings that were planned to pick out an unsavory one. Her eyes lit up and a mischievous grin formed as she thought up a perfect one. "You would be willing to not just talk, but remain polite, calm, and reposed to a certain… King Frederick of the Southern Isles?"

Anna's eyes narrowed, before her face formed a shocked expression of disbelief. "We have to talk to Hans' dad!? Why!?"

"I need to find out whether Hans acted alone or not. And the only way to do that is sit down with Uncle Freddy-"Elsa caught herself, before continuing "-King Frederick and talk about this."

"What was that?"

"What was what?" Elsa replied, turning red from embarrassment."

"Uncle Freddy?"

"Anna, King Frederick is my godfather. He was papa's best friend during the war and was very active in my life until the accident."

Anna had been informed that her memories had been changed as well as the true story behind her and Elsa's separation. She tried to remember King Frederick, as she was old enough to remember but couldn't for the life of her.

Odd.

"Now let's go. We have my first council meeting to go to, and I know I'm going to need you to calm me down."

…

Marshal Paulus Hindsfjell rode up to the front of the immobile column of soldiers, taking his place at the lead. The Palace Guard assured him that the crisis was over, but were taciturn on details. As such, he was uneasy about marching his men into town in parade formation. But he would not storm the town without proof of enemy attack so here he was.

At the front was his Chief of Staff General Wilhelmsen, with Colonel Marcks and Lieutenant Colonel Spalter, his head of Cavalry. Colonel Marchs was a tall, gaunt, bespectacled man with a Spartan attitude and air of nobility about him. A good combat leader, the man insisted on being "With his boys" right where the fighting was thickest and most dangerous. Johann "Metzger" Spalter was the Prussian born Cavalry officer from the school of Blucher. Aggressive, Fearless and independent, the man wore his Black Hussars uniform, _Totenkopf_ and all.

As he joined them, he was greeted with crisp salutes, which he returned with his own relaxed salute. Colonel Marcks was the first to speak.

"Sir, the Infantry is formed and ready to march. My Sergeant Major insists the kinder are ready to be seen by the Queen."

"Very Well. Spalter?

"My Cavalry and Kessel's Artillery are in position to come to your relief if need be."

"Good."

At that moment, a Palace Guardsman rode up on Horseback, stopping to salute the party.

"Field Marshal, sir. Queen Elsa requests you and your Staff's Presence at the Palace." Despite its wording, it was an order, not a request. And the Guardsman made sure to use a tone that informed him of that.

"No problem. I was about to lead my men to the Castle now."

"Her Majesty would prefer to discuss a matter before you lead your men into town."

Paulus nodded. Trap or not, the Queen wanted to talk to him. Alone.

"Very Well. I will be there shortly."

The Guardsmen saluted, before turning about and riding off with a loud hyah! As the rider became distant, Paulus turned to Spalter.

"I, Wilhelmsen, and Marcks are riding to meet the Queen. If we do not return or send word by nightfall, storm the city. Understood?"

"_Jahowl_!"

"Good." He gripped the reins of his horse, turning to his General and Full Colonel. "Let's go meet the Queen."

…

Queen Elsa put on a green and black dress with gold and purple trim, one very conservative with its cut, ensuring that from neck to ankle, wrist to wrist, she was covered. Elsa sighed as she looked in the mirror, annoyed that her fashion was relegated to be about sending certain messages, rather than look good or match her own tastes, let alone be comfortable. Purple, green and gold, the national colors of Arendelle to show where her heart lie, and concealing clothes as she had been told bluntly by a maid, that the revealing nature of the old dress might "make her look like a whore."

She envied Anna, who with little expectations, could wear much less formal and comfier clothes. Still, she still kept her hair in her now signature braid, and wore no gloves, not that Anna would even let that be an option. Secretly though she kept a pair hidden away, just in case. Elsa had heard whispers that this was going to be a very ugly council meeting, and that she could expect requests to abdicate. THAT was something she would never agree to.

She looked in the mirror, to do one last check-up before heading out of the bedroom to face her destiny. At first glance she was content, until she noticed something. She didn't notice a flaw of makeup or dress but a chilling realization. She did not see the "True Queen of the Ice and Snow." She saw the same terrified girl who was about to be crowned Queen.

But then she noticed another thing, something that made all the difference in the world. When she stared into that mirror 4 days ago, she stood alone. Now she had her sister, and with her Elsa felt stronger and braver.

"I'm ready."

As she turned and began to stride down the hall, Anna moved alongside her head turned slightly to initiate one last conversation.

"I liked the ice dress better."

"So did I, Anna. But now is about sending a message."

"And what's that?"

"That despite my nature, I put Arendelle and my duties as Queen first."

"Of course you do! You don't need to dress like an old lady to say that though!"

"Also, one last thing Anna, don't take anything personally. These men are mostly honest, decent men doing what they think is best for Arendelle. You cannot get angry at what they say."

"Even when they're wrong?"

Elsa smiled as the paused before the Council door. "Especially when they are wrong."

She turned to face the door, wiping the smile from her lips and taking one last breath to calm herself.

Do well. For Papa's sake.

She pushed the doors open, as Kai announced her presence to the seated Ministers.

"All rise for the Queen!"

The collection of men rose, despite their feelings of animosity or lack therefore of. Some mumbled curses under their breath, but none dare confront the Queen. Not yet.

Queen Elsa walked to her seat at the head of the oak conference table without a word, as Kai drew the chair back so Elsa could effortlessly stand in front of her chair, pausing as Anna found her own seat, the closest chair on Elsa's right hand side. With Anna ready, Elsa gave the word.

"Gentlemen, please take your seats."

As Elsa and Anna sat, Elsa couldn't help but notice the deliberately slow pace of some of the minister's efforts to sit down, a deliberate, if catty way to defy her. Elsa made a mental note of the men who did this, even though she hardly marked them as a serious threat. Elsa was more concerned about the men who would give fake smiles, for they were the ones who would really act against her.

She brushed off the childish insult, before preparing for business proper.

"Minister Jamesen, I believe you were the one who called for this meeting. What do you wish to address?"

All eyes fell on Jamesen, the senior minister of the Government. A former soldier, as well as a merchant and husband and father, Jamesen was the icon of Arendelle's middle class. Anna had never met the man before today, and she noticed something off about him. At first glance he seemed a normal middle aged man – greying dark hair, an apparent full set of teeth, some wrinkles and scars. However Anna noticed that while the left side of his face was scared and wrinkled, the right side seemed smooth and untouched. There was something unnatural about it that drew her gaze, though she tried not to stare.

The man stood his cane up, grasped firmly by gloved hands as he rose up, legs stiff. With an expression as warm as winter he unleashed his surprise.

"Your Majesty, during your absence we came to the conclusion that certain members of the council, myself included, may have been wrong when we backed you to be Queen. As such, we have voted to conduct a hearing on the question of your continued regency."

"You want to put me on trial."

"In a word, yes. You will have every opportunity to legally defend your continued reign, but I hope that you will in the end respect the Council decision."

Anna stood up, clearly upset. "You want to put Elsa on trial? How dare you!"

"Anna, please."

With a scowl on her face, Anna sat down, arms crossed and eyes averted, unable to stomach these fossils and their clearly insane plot to dethrone her sister. It was insane, right?

"I assume you are using the Jarl's Revolt as your legal precedent, correct?"

"That would be correct. A number of the men in this room are in fact nobility, and carry on the powers of the old Moot. Furthermore, the Council was authorized the power to unseat a King and pass the crown to the next of kin after the crisis of Crown Prince Christian's potential regency. Your Grandfather passed that law into effect."

"Yes. A two-thirds majority can instill a vote of no-confidence in a Regent or successor and pass it on to the next in line."

"Yes. We could have passed it during the Great Freeze, but as Chairman of this council, I vetoed it."

"Why?"

"Because I will not stand for backroom, treacherous dealings, even ones I support. I openly support a motion for you to step down, and let Princess Anna take the throne. However, let no-one say I took the coward's route."

"What if I don't want to be Queen?" Anna spoke up, as Elsa remained silent. It was a valid point.

"There are others who could take the throne, but all of them are foreigners, and would not likely have Arendelle's best interests at heart. It'd be better for Arendelle for you to take the crown passively, then let a Pole or Norwegian take it actively."

"So I'd just be a figurehead for your rule? That is not what my father would want!"

"King Agdar, may he rest in peace, would want what's best for his country."

"How dare you, sir! How dare you speak for my father?!"

Elsa tried to interject, but even her Queenly presence was not enough to stop this maelstrom without something dramatic.

"I knew your father long before you were born, your Highness. Even though we disagreed in politics, I always considered him a close friend."

"And that's how you honor him? By stealing the crown from his daughters?"

Up to this point, Jamesen had maintained a calm, professional tone. However, being criticized by a child one third his age began to test his patience. Elsa could see the rising anger, and from past experience knew that this was not the man to anger.

"Anna."

"I do what's best for Arendelle! No matter how ugly it is."

"Elsa is what's best for Arendelle!"

"Anna!"

"And by what logic do you support that statement with!?"

"Elsa sacrificed so much for Arendelle!"

"And what, could you, a child, possibly know of sacrifice?"

"She endured thirteen years of pain for me! And I nearly died for her! What do you know of sacrifice!?"

"ANNA!" Elsa screamed, finally ending the back and forth "debate" between the two. But it was too late. Across the table, Jamesen trembled with fury, his berserk button pushed. Jamesen was normally a cool, reasonable man. But if there was one thing you never did, it was to question his understanding, or lack of sacrifice. Which Anna had just done.

Jamesen stood up, eyes blind with anger. Even Anna found herself backing down a little from the pure power of the man's hardened stare. However instead of exploding, his pent up energy dissipated. In a sudden cool, collected calm, he asked a simple, but loaded question. "Your Highness, have you seen what canister shot does to a man?"

Elsa cringed, knowing exactly what was about to go down. She had seen this exact meltdown once before, and it still horrified her. Like many veterans, Elric Jamesen was proud of his service, but never was one to boast or parade his service achievements. But he always carried his medals and badges, to remind himself, and to show those who thought him inferior. He reached into his jacket, and tossed out a medal rack, including a wound badge in gold.

Still standing, the old man grabbed the right side of his face. To every one's dismay, he began to peel the leather facial prosthetics away, including a fake ear. The uncovered site revealed horrific scaring, including exposed bone and teeth, as well as ligament and his nasal cavity. He tossed down half of his face, proceeding to yank out his right eye, leaving a gaping, dark maw, Still not finished, he reached into his mouth and pulled out a set of dentures, revealing that over half his teeth, as well as a good portion of his right jaw was missing.

With his hideous face still staring Anna down the bent over, grabbing and twisting his right leg counter clockwise with an audible click. He fell back into his chair, then proceeding to pull his wooden leg from his trouser leg, before chucking it onto a table. With half of his face missing, Jamesen understandingly had speech issues, with his previously stern voice now more muffled and gravelly.

"Death is merciful, your Highness. Real sacrifice is fighting to live, so to hold your daughter again, only to have her scream and recoil in horror at the mere sight of you. That is pain."

Anna's gazed remained fixed on the man's disfigured face, as he ended the exchange.

"With all due respect, your Highness, don't ever question my understanding of pain or sacrifice again. You are but a child!"

"You have no right to talk to the Crown Princess like that!"

It was Hilfred Widstrom, the youngest man on the council. Newly appointed as the Deputy Interior Minister, he was the executor of the Interior Minister's plans and policies, which was made harder by the old Interior Minister resigning in protest of not being informed of Queen Elsa's magic. As such the young man tried to fill the shoes of his former superior. As such the young man was now the head of Arendelle's civilian police and emergency services. Blond with hazel eyes and a parted hair style, the young man looked almost boyish, if not quite yet. Facial hair was starting to grow and a lack of baby fat told a viewer that he was no child, but certainly not an "old man" like the others.

"Be Quiet, _boy_. I was a veteran of a decade of war when you were in diapers!"

"I don't care if it was a century of war! The Royal family deserves nothing but our complete respect and obedience! From all of us!" The last sentence was more directed at the room of less than loyal Ministers, of which men like him were the extreme minority. A murmur of disapproval met the young man's statement, not surprisingly.

"Shut your fucking face, ass-kisser!" Vidkun Lundgren shouted, as he stood in anger. As Financial Minister, he was charged with ensuring not only that taxes were in order but also chief to both the ministers of Agriculture and Industry- their failures where his failures. And the Great Freeze was not exactly beneficial. Lundgren was a large man, and while very intelligent and gifted with math and management, he was also prone to anger and losing his head. Slightly overweight with a brown set of hair and mustache, and eyes sunken from tireless working, Lundgren could still light a fire under a subordinate from with one of his rages.

"Arendelle lost over a tenth of its livestock, a third of its crops, and a quarter of our fishing fleet is either lost or down for repairs! I WILL NOT be blindly obedient to the Queen responsible!"

Seeing the argument going out of hand, Queen Elsa began to protest, with a stern but ignored "Order!" as the young minister lashed out at Lundgren.

"You are a traitor and a coward!"

A fist flew knocking the young man on his back. Fighting words had been exchanged, and the former sailor would not tolerate insults to his courage.

"I will not suffer a college boy's insults, when he has not as much even had a whiff of grapeshot!"

What had been murmuring had now erupted into a shit storm of shouting and shoving as the loyalists gathered around their fallen comrade and the opposition proceeded to berate those who still had, in their view, an idiotic loyalty to the Queen. Elsa began to pound the gavel and cry out for order, but it was no use. This was no longer a meeting ran by the Queen, but between two rival groups.

Feeling powerless, Elsa slumped back into her chair. She felt belittled that she couldn't get her own damn government to listen to her. If she could not do that, how did she have any hope of running the country. Before she had felt so confident, back when a whisper from her would silence a room. She had realized now that she had coasted on her father's reputation, and now that it was her own authority that upheld order, that she was powerless.

She was angry. Despite a life of preparation, all that education, all that mentoring was a mere joke to them. She was angry that these men no longer respected the legacy, the authority of the crown. She was angry that she was so weak that only the sycophants and blindly loyal stayed true to her. She was angry at these men, she was angry at her father for not giving her more preparation, she was even angry at Anna, envious of her lack of responsibility with her currently muddled mind. But while she hated all of them, she loathed herself most of all. Neither side had noticed the cooling of the room or snow beginning to fall, not until it was too late.

"ENOUGH!" Two fists slammed on the table, but it did not belong to any minister. Rising as her fists made contact, the Queen's anger and utter contempt for the circus that the council meeting had become manifested itself, and did so hard.

Making contact, the table instantly froze, with a blizzard's gale sending documents and ledgers flying to all corners of the room, with icy spikes jutting outward as the silenced ministers recoiled, now reminded again why many of them feared the Queen. More than the display of magic, it was the fact that Elsa's eyes glowed a bright, icy blue for a second that scared them most of all.

"I AM THE QUEEN, YOU WILL COME TO ORDER WHEN I COMMAND IT!"

Elsa shook with a mix of adrenaline, fury, and a fear as the council stood there, mouths gaping and bodies still in an effort to placate the terrible force facing them. None understood what happened next but Anna, as she stared in shock and horror as Elsa withdrew a pair of gloves and quickly put them on, hindered by the tremor her hands suffered.

Voice trembling, the young Queen gave an order disguised as a request. Her voice trembling and nearly cracking under the pressure, it was all Elsa could do to refrain herself from exploding like the time bomb she had become.

"I believe we are finished for today. Would you _gentlemen_ please retire for the day?"

"Yes, we can."

Quickly finding their way out of the room, the Ministers were gone in mere seconds, not even bothering to collect personal effects. As Anna closed in to embrace her sister, a terrified Elsa turned, pleading with Anna for her own sake.

"Anna, please. Get behind something."

"But Elsa-"

"NOW!" Elsa screamed as her eyes began to ice over with a magical glaze again. From Elsa's perspective it was very similar to the vision one had when "Seeing red." Knowing from experience, Anna upturned a coffee table and tucked herself behind it, still peeking to see what was about to happen.

Elsa ripped off the gloves, with her magic coming forth like water from a busted dam. She screamed in anger as she wielded her magic like an enraged man would a bat. With blasts of frosty winds flipping tables and chairs, spikes of ice punching through castle stone, there was more than anger at a council meeting's dismal state in this rage. Much more.

With a final, banshee-like scream, she unleashed a burst of magical ice in all directions, of the same variety that accidently froze Anna's heart. An inch of wood was more than enough to block this burst, even though it would prove unnecessary. Though infuriated at the world and some-what angry at her, her love of Anna never faded from her mind as ice went in all directions but Anna's table, though the windows did not share this luck, shattering from the blast.

Elsa collapsed to her knees, deeply breathing and holding back tears as Anna emerged, taking in the breathe-taking alteration of the council room. Taking a mere look at Elsa, Anna did what she did best. Falling to her knees Anna squeezed Elsa in a loving sisterly embrace. She knew she needed to reassure Elsa, and that despite all of this, that everything was okay.

"Wow." She paused, thinking of a follow-up. "That was freaky!"

Not her best work.

"Well, not that you are freaky, even though you are. But in the best way!"

Elsa smiled and laughed, causing Anna to sigh in relief. She was willing to be thought a klutz, if it brought Elsa some relief and joy. Knowing that she somewhat contributed to the abject failure to the meeting she set about trying to rectify her mistake.

"Elsa, I'm so sorry for getting mad at Jamesen. I should have-"

"Anna, _look at me_." Elsa leaned back, hold Anna in her grip and staring into her eyes. "This is not your fault. It's mine. Politics is my cross to bear, I should have never-"

"No!" Anna shouted, causing Elsa to lose her train of thought as Anna began to rant. "You don't have to do everything alone! I'm not your sister only after hours. If me helping you rule gives the slightest relief, then we're damn-well doing it! _Together_!"

Elsa had no response but to seize her sister and embrace her as hard as she could. All would be okay.

Bit of notes-

I know I promised the Regiment's homecoming, and yet it's not here. The reason why that is this chapter was originally over 7000+ words, including a lot more crap. As such, I was advised to scale back this release and include the cut content as Chapter 3 (with additions, of course.) I also felt that the chapter kind "jumped the shark" in reveals, twists, and scenes, meaning inevitably a few chapters of filler unlikely to live up to this chapter's standards.

Onto content. Considering I like "Brave" almost as much as I like Frozen, I really liked the idea of them existing in the same universe and timeline. As such, "Dunbroch" exists as a minor independent region of Scotland, ruled by King Fergus and Queen Elinor. Have less English influence, some things have inevitable altered. For example, Captain MacKenzie wears a "Full Kilt," which is the garb Scottish Highlanders actually wore- the modern Kilt is an English factory worker's invention, designed for his Scottish workers. If curious, a simple google of "Full Kilt" will produce the image you need. Very similar to the garb worn in Brave.

Also, this chapter straight up ended the Teen rating for this fanfic. If fully describing a man missing half his face and numerous F-bombs doesn't do, I don't know what will. By the time this goes up it'll be changed to M. Sorry if this rating change has inconvenienced you.

Finally, I'd like to give a shout out to Grrlgeek76, who Beta-read this chapter and went _way _above and beyond the call to duty. I requested a simple read over and basic opinion of the chapter and it's length. I got a full proof-reading with color coded notes and corrections. And as always, to be blessed with favorable reviews from her, as well as all the others who give me input is a great honor. Thank you all.

Glossary-

Jahowl- German phrase used as a response to an order. The closest English equivalent would be Aye-aye, sir! Or less closely Hoo-ah and Oo-rah when they are used as a response. You've probally heard Nazis say this one in the movies.

Totenkopf- German for Death's Head. While today carrying a very negative stigma thanks to its wide use in the Waffen-SS as a cap device, the Totenkopf goes way back, to the days of Frederick the Great. In German service, it was predominantly used in either Cavalry or Irregular forces. Hence why Regular _Heer _(Army) Panzer crewmen wore Totenkopf on their Jackets during WW2. Many other non-German units continued this trend, including official uniforms until WW2. By that point the negative stigma made it nonpolitically-correct even though unofficially, skulls are used by everybody. To the point that my unit is labeled Grim Troop and we use a Grim Reaper as our unit symbol.

Translations-

"Elsa, warum ist er trägt ein Kilt? Das ist seltsam! Ich habe noch nie einen gesehen! Warten Sie, kann er mich verstanden? Oh, bitte nicht, mir zu sagen, er uns verstehen können!"- "Elsa, why is he wearing a kilt? That's strange, I've never seen one! Wait, he can hear me? Oh, please don't tell me he can understand us!" (Roughly)

"Nein, er spricht nur Englisch, jetzt lassen Sie mich das machen.- "No, he only speaks English, now let me handle this. (Roughly)


	3. Ch 3- Rumours and Ghost Stories

It was a strange ride through town for sure. The population stayed indoors for the most part, unsure of whether their Army was liberators or conquerors. Those who thought the latter made no attempt to hide it. Of those, the ones who were less than pleased with the prospects of a Snow Queen vented with shouts like "Snow Queen's Dogs." And "Ice Witch's monkeys." As such the small party was aware of the "absurd rumor" that Queen Elsa was some Witch Queen.

It was hardly a new conundrum. While no-one had entered the city until now, civilians had been passing through, most with about as much knowledge as they did. As such a variety of rumors had been heard- ranging from Queen Elsa being dead with the mythical Snow Queen replacing her, to the Queen being some snow witch. Others included a coup, the beginning of Ragnarok/Armageddon, or a repeat of the really bad winter over 40 years ago.

Scoffing at the mere idea that the girl they've known for years was the cause for the Great Freeze, the men dismounted at the castle gates and briskly strode across the Castle courtyard as Palace Guardsmen eyed them with suspicion.

Paulus carried himself with a steely calm, but was honestly scared pissless as he entered the main hall. He very well knew that at any moment, the Palace Guard could arrest and execute him, which was not an unheard of possibility. Until he saw Queen Elsa, he still considered the possibility of a Palace Guard or Civilian Coup a real threat.

Entering the main hall and seeing a bunch of nervous Ministers staring at him and his officers, and the unreadable nature of the Guard only reinforced his fears. He rested his hand on his holster, eyeing the room for the first sign of betrayal.

Needless to say, the entrance of Queen Elsa drew an audible sigh from all three officers as the relaxed their posture and bowed to their sovereign.

"Your Majesty, I am pleased to find that you are well. We heard preposterous rumors that ranged from your untimely death to accusations of sorcery!" The men chuckled at the idiocy of the latter. It didn't take Paulus long to notice the grim ministers not joining in. The Queen also had a pained reaction that puzzled Paulus.

However, Wilhelmsen being a stickler for detail cut off his observation with a much finer detail.

"If you don't mind me asking, what is the council doing here? They are not meant to meet again for several days!"

"There was an emergency meeting." Remarked a junior councilman, not truly knowing the implications of his actions.

"On what? Perhaps the army could help."

The ministers shifted their eyes, knowing that announcing plans of treason to the commanders that are charged with preventing it may not be too terribly wise. However, Jamesen was not one to hide his intentions.

"We met to carry out the beginnings of impeachment proceedings against Queen Elsa."

The smile disappeared from the General's lips, quickly turning into a hateful scowl. His eyes blazed in fury as the man began to curse and shout.

"You traitorous swine! You will be shot for this!" Turning to Queen Elsa, he offered his service. "Your Majesty, just give the order, and I'll have these men executed immediately!"

The Ministers cringed, knowing from the disastrous meeting that their Queen had little reason to spare their lives as not only had they proven their disloyalty, but they had seen the Queen lose control. A direct contradiction to the official statement that the Queen was perfectly in control of her powers.

Queen Elsa's conscience screamed for her to do the right thing, but she took a moment to ponder the consequences. This was it. This was the watershed moment that would characterize her rule. Either be a strong tyrant, or soft Queen. Knowledge of letting these men continue what they were doing would cripple her authority. Her choice was made.

"That will not be necessary. Let them continue their effort to find a legal reason to dethrone me."

Wilhelmsen's face was one of horror. "Your majesty, we cannot tolerate such blatant treason!"

Raising her voice, Elsa made sure that the Military men knew she would not budge. "I will not sit on throne of Bayonets! There will be no further discussion of this!"

Both Paulus and Wilhelmsen paused, before looking at each other. They gave a mere look, which was enough to let the other know what they both thought. It wasn't pretty, but they felt they had no choice.

The Queen insists on self-destruction. So be it. The Army will pick up the pieces.

Both returned their gaze upon their Queen, before bowing. "Yes, your majesty."

"Throne of bayonets. Ha!" All eyes turned to Lundgren, whose anger caused was yet to cause more problems. "Like a throne of cursed ice is much better!"

The Officers looked at him with mocking disbelief, before laughing.

"These men run our government? That idiot believes an insane conspiracy theory! There is no way the Queen has-"

Elsa decided now was the time. Time for the truth. These men were so indoctrinated to be loyal, that only a demonstration of her abilities would open their eyes. And she could not afford to keep these men in the dark. She was done hiding.

With a clap of her hands, she began to shape a sphere of glowing ice, before launching it up into the air. The ice then burst in a flash of cold color, before it began to snow indoors. The Officers stopped laughing, awestruck. Heads gazing upwards, still not getting it. Elsa made her way down from the stairs, sending bolts of icy magic to redecorate the main hall. Banners became the same material of her dress, statues and armor suits became encased in ice, and with a final stomp, the room's very décor, its trim and paneling became infused it the way the palace had when she created the ice rink, with bluish ice accenting the walls.

Their minds still overloaded, the speechless men stood mystified as the Queen proudly swayed towards them, a smile on her lips. She really did enjoy casting her magic and reveling in her gift/curse. As a coup de grace, she spread her arms wide and willed her dress' transformation. While it remain as constrictive, the dress became the same sheer ice fabric, with glistening scales. As her cape formed, a familiar tune passed through her mind, one that still gave her a surge when thinking.

_Let it go, let it go, and I'll rise like the break of dawn!_

_Let it go, let it go! That perfect girl is gone!_

She came to a halt, mere feet from her loyal officers. With a smirk on her face she addressed her now fully believing men.

"I afraid the conspiracy theories are true, Gentlemen. I am a sorceress."

The three men stood, collecting their thoughts. Colonel Marcks was the first to recover, straightening his uniform and returning to a straightened posture. Clearing his throat and straightening his glasses, he spoke.

"Well. Our military is sure to benefit from this. Very Well."

Paulus also recovered, but chose to remain silent, responding with a nod and a bow. It was the Chief of Staff whose mind began to run scenarios and as always viewed the event from all angles. Then something struck him. His face twisted with disgust as he turned to the Queen.

"I beg your pardon, Your Majesty. I need to excuse myself." Without even as much as waiting for a response, the General stormed out. His incoherent muttering and cursing was heard as he left the hall. Elsa stood, once again irritated at the day's events.

_For the love of god, why must everything go wrong?!_

Reading her expression, Paulus went after his colleague. Marcks remained, as the ministers crept forward. Jamesen spoke up, a little relieved now that the army was no longer going to execute them for treason, but unsure how things would proceed.

"Your Majesty, when do you wish-"

"Next Friday, so three days. You are all dismissed."

As the group turned to leave, Elsa's eagerness to have today be done was overruled by her curiosity.

"Colonel?"

The tall, gaunt man halted as the others vacated the main hall. Once the officials had finally left, Elsa spoke up.

"Colonel, how are you so calm with this information?"

The soldier smiled, running a hand over his greying head of hair. She was right. While none of them remained stoic during her revelation, his surprise was nowhere near as severe as that of his comrades.

"Your Majesty, I have spent almost my entire life in the army. When you have seen what I have, Ice Magic doesn't isn't that fantastical."

"Like what Colonel?"

"Some War Stories are better left untold, Your Majesty." He paused, before changing the subject. "Your Majesty, my Regiment is standing by to parade upon entering town. I'd like to march them to the Castle and present them for inspection. Do you object to this, Your Majesty?"

Elsa nodded, knowing from her Father not to dig into an old soldier's memories when he was unwilling. She didn't attempt to revive the subject, and instead resolved the issue at hand.

"Not at all, Colonel. Dismissed."

Marcks clicked his heels to attention, and bowed, leaving the Snow Queen to her thoughts.

_I wonder how this Parade will somehow be ruined…_

…

The Parade went off without crisis, surprisingly. Queen Elsa gracefully watched as over a thousand men marched into the Palace courtyard, taking a right hugging the wall as they passed in review. Still in her ice dress, she determined to make it known to her soldiers exactly who she was, as well as cooling the men with snowfall, and creating bursts of wind that ensured the colors actually flew.

For Elsa parades were an odd exception to her general fear of people and crowds. When she was young, Elsa and later both Princesses would make a habit of attending parades. While Anna typically enjoyed the civilian affairs with their intricate scheduling and variation of entries, Elsa found herself drawn to the military parades. From the pounding pulse of the drums to the perfectly uniformity of the soldiers, it was an exercise in perfection.

She closed her eyes for a moment, listening to the perfect synchronization as hobnailed boots struck cobblestone the exact moment the bass drums pounded. The Regimental Band finished one march, before launching into another. Elsa reopened her eyes, just in time to salute with her scepter as another Company marched past in review.

She turned to see how Anna was doing. Anna was restless as always, a little bored. Eyes glazed and constantly shifting her feet, Elsa was glad that the troops couldn't really take a good look at the two.

"I take it you are not enjoying the parade."

"Ugh, these things are so _boring! _It's the same-looking guys marching by for an eternity. Why can't they add variety!?"

"It's a single regiment, Anna. They don't vary in types of soldiers. Each unit is the same."

"So what's up with the new uniforms and hats?"

"When papa… was lost, I took on some of the responsibility of ruling the country, gradually taking on more tasks as time went on. The one area I had limited control was the Army." She paused, saluting as another company marched by, before carrying on.

"A year ago, I authorized modernization to Field Marshal Nordfjell. As to how to accomplish that, he suggested we turn to the Prussians. After a brief negotiation, they agreed. Eager to expand their influence and gain a military ally, they were more than happy to assist us."

Anna accepted the explanation, but was still innocent enough to not question the underlining implications the way Elsa had. Sure, the Prussians were set to field the prototype needle guns from Dreyse, and they would have certainly rather have someone else bear the pain of the teething problems, but that wasn't it.

Emerging as a great power following the Napoleonic wars, Prussia and most of Germany began to see themselves as a single people. As such, many began to whisper in support for Unification, either under Austrian or Prussian leadership. The Monarchy was opposed to it, of course. But their government necessarily wasn't. The Military and certain ministers quietly lay the groundwork where they could.

Which lead to Elsa. She had been contacted through contacts on potential marriage arrangements, to the point of a possible union with the King's Nephew and 3rd in line, Frederick. She entertained the notion, while keeping other options open, such as a union with Norway or Sweden. She wasn't sure where to stand though. While ethnically Norse, Arendelle had considerable German influence. Most of the Capital and coastal cities spoke German thanks to extensive trade, and thanks to her father a number of German-born men occupied key positions.

What troubled her most was her father's legacy. King Agdar spent years in the Prussian Army during the Napoleonic war, and also held a special place in his heart for Prussia and Germany. He himself desired a close tie, maybe a union by marriage between the two nations. Even with her condition, her father always made a habit of keeping her updated on the available suitors of the Prussian nobility when she turned of age. As such, she was never sure if any machinations to ally Arendelle with Prussia was her own, or her father's.

She looked at Anna. While bored at this moment, she enjoyed free love with the Sami Ice cutter that she didn't think Elsa knew about, Kristoff. She was happy and in love. Elsa accepted that she would never have the latter, but as long as one of them was happy, she was at peace.

Oblivious to Elsa's inner thoughts, the civilian officials continued to bicker amongst themselves over how to approach the next council meeting and whether to continue with the legal proceedings. The Military however, were at working scheming their next "extra-legal" move.

Paulus had not discovered why Wilhelmsen stormed out, until now. The Chief of Staff had disappeared, insisting that he needed to "work on something." The energetic man did not return until mere moments before the parade started.

"The shame of it all!"

"What?"

"You don't get it? Queen Elsa summoned us alone, without our troops. She doubts our loyalty!"

"She's young still!" Paulus began to counter-argue. "It wasn't personal!"

"My family had fought and died for the Royal family since the time of the Viking Raids! We would NEVER betray the Queen!" A sinister look formed on his face as he finished his thought. "But she'll see. Tomorrow the Queen will see just how loyal I am!"

Troubled by his friends statements, Paulus changed topics. "Speaking of loyalty, how does-"

"Already prepared, Paulus."

"Good Erik." He cast a dirty look at the civilian Government officials on the opposite side of the booth. "If they vote for abdication, we storm the palace. Queen Elsa will be the Queen." Erik's nod in support of the statement reassured him. He didn't know what he was planning, but it wasn't a plot against the Queen. At least he hoped so.

…

Major Surtrsen fell to his knees before his bed to conduct his evening prayers. A devout Christian, the man was barely able to conceal his disgust when he was informed that the Queen was a vile sorceress. It was bound to happen, this blight upon the land. Arendelle was the last hold-out of Nordic paganism, when the other Scandinavian nations righteously put their heathens and heretics to the sword and flames. He had nothing but contempt for the men in his Battalion who worshiped the old gods.

Clasping his hands together, he closed his eyes and prayed

"Our Father, Lord in heaven, hallowed be your name. Please forgive these heretics and pagans, for they do not know what they do. Deliver us from this unholy Queen of ice and darkness, and let your light shine over the people of Arendelle. Please Lord, give me a sign. If you wish me to be your tool, your holy weapon against this evil, give me a sign! In Jesus' name, Amen."

His prayer was heard. If God heard, no one would know. But in a nearby crypt, something else did.

A corpse of a Queen from a millennia ago laid on a stone altar gripping a sword, her armor and clothing worn and faded but still in remarkable condition for its considerable age. The corpse itself was in similar condition, though one would not think so without knowledge of decomposition. What flesh that could be seen uncovered in armor was withered and colored a sickly bluish grey, with little more than bones and sinew and some muscle jutting out against the leathery skin.

Her face was completely uncovered, gaunt and shriveled, bearing teeth that where in poor shape even before death claimed her, thanks to the poor dental hygiene of the Viking era. Her once broken nose had retracted, with skin still covering her nasal bridge but revealing the bottom of her nasal slits. Her brittle hair was a sickly white color after being dead for centuries. The only thing of beauty still left was an ancient crown similar to a tiara, only made of materiel harder and more durable than gold and silver.

The corpse lie still, encased in ice. But it was not dead. As the whispers that could be heard only by those with powers beyond our own reached the Queens decayed ears, her sunken eyes opened, revealing vivid glowing blue eyes. Her lips cracked as they twisted, no longer simply bearing teeth but genuinely smiling.

She had been waiting for someone to free her from her ice prison, and she had found him. Her mind was strong, his was weak. She would enthrall him.

_Now I'm free…_

Bit of Notes-

Sorry for the long ass wait, but I have been incredible busy the past month. A good deal of that consisting of 12+ hour work days. The good news is that I now have pretty much the whole day off for the next week, so hopefully Chapter 4 soon and an update for my long suffering Hans' Fate subscribers.


	4. Ch 4- Nightmares through the night

8 PM, July 18th, 1840

Royal Palace, Arendelle

Thunderous applause.

Of all of the things Elsa expected when she entered the ballroom of her conservative army's dining in, she did not expect thunderous applause. To her credit though, she could hardly be blamed for being skeptical of the loyalty of her Grenadier officers after one of her own Royal Guard Officers turned traitor.

Unlike the Royal Guard, the Grenadiers' loyalty was less loyalty to a woman than an idea. Royal Guardsmen were expected to be loyal to the monarch, despite knowing very well of their flaws. That combined with the political aspiration of many of the officers and the loyalty of many men to their nearby families over the monarch made for a more grounded in reality sort of loyalty of the Royal Guard.

The Grenadiers did not share this attitude. Mostly young men without families who never as much as seen the Queen, hero worship of monarchs was common in the Regiment. Most where not from Arendelle, and as such did not have the same worry for their families. For these men, finding out your Queen had magical powers only added to this worship.

As she made her way across the ballroom, Elsa could hear such shouts as "Hail to the Snow Queen!" and "Glory to Queen Elsa!" could be heard from energetic young officers over the enthusiastic clapping. Elsa was hardly one to be vainglorious, but after a rough day she hardly complained of the adoration of these men.

She reached her throne, where Anna was already waiting, smiling as well for Elsa's applause. As Elsa pivoted and face the crowd, she raised her hand slightly when the applause showed no sign of slowing down in a gesture to carry on. The clapping died down as Elsa prepared to speak.

Before she could speak, she found herself at a loss of words, suffering from minor stage fright for a moment. Anna sensed the problem and quietly clasped her hand with a whisper. "You got this."

Elsa corrected herself, before giving the speech.

"Soldiers and Officers of Arendelle, I would like to congratulate you on your successes in battle. Once again the defenders of Arendelle have made our country and people safe from those who would do us harm."

She paused, surveying her officers. In addition to Grenadiers, A number of Landwehr, Naval, and Royal Guard officers were also present.

"Your work is likely not done, however. Others will threaten this Kingdom. We will face these threats, and defeat them. I cannot do this alone. It is you, the strength in my arm, the defenders of Arendelle who will allow our people to live in peace and freedom. Tonight is for you, gentlemen. Enjoy yourself tonight, but tomorrow remember the wolves at our door. Thank you."

More applause from the younger men, those who thought chasing bandits in the mountain was war. The older men, the ones who remembered Napoleon; remained silent.

…

Elsa and Anna had decided before hand to conduct the meet and greet of the senior officers together. Elsa's political knowledge with Anna's people skills painted a more complete picture, plus it was good experience for Anna. They had just finished talking to a Landwehr Colonel when they found a bit of a window. Elsa broke the ice for a change.

"I find it a bit strange that our Royal Ice Master and Deliverer is absent tonight, don't you think, Anna?"

Anna blushed, before stammering out a flawed explanation.

"No! I mean, it's not strange at all. Tonight is for the Military, and Kris- I mean Mr. Bjorgman is a civilian."

"That he is, but typically the Princess' consort is seen with the Princess at events."

"WHAT!? CONSORT?"

Elsa laughed, before cutting her sister's poorly formed denial.

"Anna, It's fine that you're seeing him. He's a fine fellow, and you two are taking it slowly. As long as you two don't get married right away or elope, I have no problem with Kristoff courting you."

"Really? But he's not a noble, which is why I kept it from you."

"It doesn't matter as long as I get married and produce an heir."

Anna smiled, ribbing Elsa on in hope of finding out about Elsa's possible love life. "Are you courting someone?"

"No, but I am liable to accept an arranged marriage soon."

Anna looked at Elsa with a mix of sorrow and pity, saddened by Elsa once again having no hope for her own happiness. Elsa read her sister's troubled expression and set about fixing it.

"Anna, I was born without hope of marrying for love, and I'm _okay _with it. Your happiness is all that matters to me. As long as one of us finds true love and happiness, I'm happy. Besides, Mama and Papa were arranged, and they loved each other dearly!"

"You _deserve _happiness Elsa! Blast what other people say!"

"I can't. Remember what happened with cousin Rapunzel?"

"Mama and Papa died around then, so not really."

"Her reappearance set off waves in the region. While she was gone, deals were made to handle the succession with no available heir. While her coming back soured relations, it was her marrying a commoner that started a war."

"A war?"

"Yes. Over 10,000 people died. Who I marry matters, Anna."

A brief moment of silence lingered before Anna asked a question, one that hardly improved the mood.

"Elsa, do you _really _think we'll be invaded?"

"Maybe Anna. But I will do _anything _to avoid a war. Even marry."

They were cut off by the next man in the meet and greet, Colonel Metzger. The Cavalry officer bowed be straightening himself and matting back his wild salt and pepper hair with his hand.

"Your Majesty, excuse me but I couldn't help but overhear the final part of your conversation. If I may be as bold as to offer advice?"

Despite being perturbed by the officer's sudden appearance, Elsa always believed in listening to experts.

"Go ahead, Colonel"

"Doing anything to avoid war is not peace, its slavery. War is what we are here for. If anyone threatens you or our country, give us the word. We'll send those bastards straight back to hell."

"I see"

"Also your majesty, you are too soft, too merciful, and too kind. But I know you have strength inside of you, you merely need to channel some of your father into you"

Slightly angry at the criticism of her but especially of her father, Elsa took a defensive tone. "Excuse me _Colonel_, My father was a fair and kind leader. I believe you are out of line."

Feeling the need to get his point his point across was worth a reprimand, he continued. "I wasn't talking about when he was King. I was talking about during the war. About Germany."

"What are you talking about?"

"I knew your father when he was younger than you. He was a very different man before he met your mother, god bless her soul. She was the best thing to ever happen to him. Before her, he was… different."

Elsa paused, unsure what the man was hinting at. Anna on the other hand, balled her fist, annoyed at the man seemingly speaking ill of her father.

"Papa never showed his little girls his war chest, did he?" He said in an almost sing-song voice.

Anna interjected. "I've seen all of Papa's war stuff. He was a hero." Elsa's eyes however widened, her mind calling up a distant memory, one that wasn't entirely pleasant. The Colonel noticed and addressed them both.

"Princess Anna, I am not referring to his displays, I am referring to his Freikorps chest. I know what's in that chest, and it's not something any decent man displays in public. You may not remember, but based on Queen Elsa's Expression, I assume she does. I suggest a revisit to that chest, your Majesty. Its contents are why no one dared make an enemy of King Agdar."

He then proceeded to bow, before excusing himself. The two royal sisters paused, unsure on how to react to the news. Whatever they were going to do, it would have to wait- the party was still ongoing and the two had a lot more people to meet and greet.

…

Surtrsen had only just drifted off to sleep, when the vision came.

An angel with strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes came to him in his dream, her skin white as snow. While she did not possess wings, she glowed with the holy light of almighty god himself.

"Surtrsen, God has heard you and your plight. He now needs you to be his sword in his war against Queen Elsa and her vile sorcery. But first you must free me from my pagan prison, to guide you and your men to an utmost holy victory!"

"How will I find you?"

"Just follow my voice, Alan. Follow my voice and you will not be led astray."

Surtrsen awoke from his sleep, rushing to put his boots on and grab a coat and lantern. When god gives you a mission, you don't sleep on it.

Miles away, the corpse smiled as she waited patiently for the good major to arrive, to free his "angel."

_Soon…_

…

The Dining-in lasted longer than expected, leaving Elsa and Anna exhausted and in no mood to chase after the cryptic nonsense of some old cavalry colonel. It could wait the morning. At least that's what Anna thought. Elsa, though was uneasy. She had no real memory of the chest, other than her father's express warning to stay away from it and a sense of dread about it. It was as if only the emotion of opening the chest once remained, not the memories of what was inside. In any case, it was best to get some sleep and deal with the sins of her father tomorrow.

As she changed and slipped under the covers, a nagging sense of curiosity dogged her sleep. She searched her memory for any instance of her father being a "different man" from the one she remembered, to no avail.

Yes her Father and Mother effectively exiled her to her room for 10 years (the last three years where self-imposed), but what else where they going to do? She nearly _killed _Anna. So they sacrificed mental and emotional health for physical health, which sadly had terrible results. But Elsa could never blame her parents for what happened.

For most of the exile, she was not forbidden to leave her room or see Anna. She locked herself away out of raw fear of possible hurting Anna or anyone else again. Yes her Parents started it, and did little to convince her otherwise, but they did it out of fear and concern for the other daughter.

As thus while she lamented her parent's failure to realize that love was the answer, she loved them and had almost entirely fond memories of both of them. No memories of a man who was anything but kind. And thus Elsa was puzzled at the colonel's remarks. Frustrated she drifted off to sleep. But where her conscious mind failed, her subconscious would succeed.

…

She was little. Real little.

Elsa was in the garden of the palace, playing while her very pregnant mother mended her flower garden. It was May, and while it was still a little chilly outside, it was an otherwise beautiful spring day in the palace. Her father was nearby, working in his little wood shop. He wasn't very good at it, but despite it all Agdar attempted to fix a broken stool.

It was a happier, simpler time.

Suddenly a man walked into the garden, causing little Elsa to feel uneasy. After all, he didn't look like a normal visitor, and he certainly wasn't dressed like castle staff.

"Papa, there's a strange man here."

Agdar looked up from the stool, a little puzzled. "Can I help you, sir?"

With eyes blazing the strange man drew a pistol while screaming in French. Before any of them could react, the assassin shot her father in the chest, causing him to reel back in shock and pain. His primary target dealt with, the man decided he wanted to maximize damage. He drew a second pistol, and took aim at Idun. Relishing his revenge, he deliberately aimed for her swollen belly.

He squeezed the trigger.

Misfire.

As he stopped to look at the defective pistol, a very not dead Agdar rose up. Young Elsa smiled, as her hero father was here to stop the bad man. But as she looked at him, there was something wrong. Her father's eyes were not the same caring eyes that she knew. They weren't even the eyes she saw when he was angry, or scolding her. They were empty, dead, and cold.

Agdar seized a nearby hatchet, even ignoring the saber he was currently training with. The assassin was out of pistols, and he decided it was better to live today, and strike again than test his chances with a target that could fight back. He turned and attempted to scale the short garden wall, but was set upon by a surprisingly quick Agdar.

Without as much as a word, Agdar drove the hatchet into the Frenchman's back, causing him to scream in pain. Using the man's pain to his advantage, he grasped him and tore him off the wall. Stumbling and failing his attempts to rise, the assassin was clearly no longer a threat.

But Agdar was not finished. Oblivious to the watching eyes of his pregnant wife or his 3 year old daughter, he straddled the wounded man and proceeded the drive his hatchet into the man over and over, each time a sickening wet thump was heard over the man's screams, until he screamed no more. He dropped his axe, causing the mortified Idun to attempt to reach her husband.

"Agdar?"

He did not respond as he drew his whittling knife before prying open the dead man's jaw which was remarkably still intact.

"Agdar!?"

Still deaf to the world, Agdar ran his bloody fingers though his opponent's mouth as if he was looking for something, though Elsa couldn't tell what. Idun however, was not going to let this continue. Not in front of their daughter.

"AGDAR!"

Agdar twisted violently, as if prepared to defend himself from some new threat. Instead his vacant eyes finally saw his family again, shaking him out of his trance. He dropped the knife as he stared at his hands, soaked in blood. He then looked at the mutilated corpse beneath him, and felt his red face.

He calmly turned to the two of them, and in a voice more suited to asking for a favor, he asked simply.

"Idun, take Elsa to her room. I will take care of this."

Her mother was quite used to reacting to Agdar's condition after several years of marriage, and knew that this was a matter that was best discussed later. She scooped up Elsa and took her out of the garden, Elsa facing back as she was carried out of the garden. Feeling moisture she felt her own face, and found it covered with blood, leaving her hands nearly as red as her father's.

…

Elsa sprung up, awoken by the unpleasantness of her memory. Even if the dark she could see her own breath and a patch of ice surrounding her bed, a litmus test of her emotions. The dream was a revelation to the Queen. The chest couldn't wait. Her father was gone, so the only thing that could tell Elsa what had haunted her father so, lay in there. And based on her nightmare, perhaps Anna was best not knowing what lay inside.

…

Surtrsen had followed the voice diligently for over an hour now, with it now convincing him he was close. He certainly believed it. The air was thick with history and vile sorcery, and the ground illuminated by his lantern show only dirt and rocks, the grass and plant life having died off. As he drew closer to the ominous cave, he began to see birds, lying dead on the ground. Judging on their state, they must have died in flight.

_The pagan magic here is so vile, it kills birds that so much as fly over!_

He felt sick and his brain ached, but he would not fail god. Not when he was so close. He pushed ahead, now confronting the catacomb. As was expected, the entrance was bricked in, as well as covered in runes from the pre-Christian era. He dismissed their pagan value, and as such was blind to their message of warning to never enter. Kicking the weak and ancient stones aside, he was now inside.

It was a standard barrow, with ancient runes carved into the stone, as well as a sizeable collection of artifacts. A less reckless man might question why pagans so determined to bind an angel would bury it with a fortune, but Surtrsen was hardly cautious, and the corpse had already began to twist his mind.

As such he entered to find a beautiful and illuminating angel lying in state, in a transparent ice coffin. He approached the coffin, covered in the same runes that foretold doom if breached. If only he could read the dead language. Blind to the warnings, he gave a stout push to the lid, causing it to slide off.

She was even more beautiful in person. Her reddish hair was somehow in perfect state and her skin pale and flawless, but that was heavenly beauty for you. Once again, the voice returned.

_Surtrsen, I am almost free! All you must do is release my binds! Simply remove the scissors on my chest, the needles in my feet, and the string holding my toes together, and their vile curse will end!_

Eager as a loyal hound, he scanned her heavenly body for the instruments of paganism. He took the scissors, now ancient and rusted and tossed them carelessly away. He also found her feet, bound and pierced as expected. Using his own personal knife he slit the string and pulled out the needles. As the last needle was pulled out, a blast knocked him back.

The ward was gone.

…

Elsa entered the office as quietly as possible, though she was not sure why. This was her father's office, and now hers supposedly. But she could never bear to have it changed, or for her to take over. Even now she nearly crept, despite the fact that no-one would penalize her for being here.

She placed the lit lantern on her father's desk and proceeded to light up the room to make searching earlier, shaking off the overwhelming urge to be as sneaky as possible. The room now well lit, she began to search. Before long she discovered an old, weathered chest in a closet. She struggled to drag it across the floor into the light, before simply creating an ice patch to slide it across on.

Work smarter not harder, right?

She applied a similar technique in freeze shattering the old lock placed on the chest, not that it was difficult to. The lock was meant to keep curious daughters out, not thieves. Her heart pounding from anticipation she looked over her shoulder, half expecting her father to come back from the dead to give her a scolding.

What she wouldn't give…

Sighing, she returned her focus to the chest, opening it. The top consisted of a tray holding an old, black uniform, the top piece being as is appropriate, a cap. It was a billed peaked forage cap, blackened with cheap die and made of rough wool. It certainly wasn't anything a royal would be seen in. As she inspected it further, she ran her hand across the cap device, covered in dust. She rubbed it to get a better look.

It was a human skull.

Suddenly, a memory came to her. One she had partially forgotten.

…

"Elsa, Elsa! Look!" Elsa turned from her book to see what odd thing her 4 year old sister had discovered now. Before she could see what Anna had, she shouted it out. "Look, I'm a pirate!"

Her sister had on an oversized billed cap with a skull on it, clearly not a pirate cap but close enough for Anna's overactive imagination. Knowing better that to get in a pointless argument stating otherwise, Elsa decided it'd be best to find out where it came from, then put it back.

"Anna, where did you find that?"

"In papa's pirate treasure chest!"

"What?"

"Let me show you!"

…

Back in the present, Elsa shuddered at the connotation of the _Totenkopf. _It wasn't the image itself, but what it stood for- Death to one's enemies. On one hand, military men had a fascination with establishing themselves as bringers of death. She didn't like it, but she permitted her Cavalry troopers to wear the Death's head as her father encouraged it.

But this was different. This was no Hussar's Totenkopf, it was the Freikorp's. While later formations of the Freikorp were romanticized, she had read enough history, especially that of the French to know that those that fought Napoleon before the official Freikorps was founded were hardly the puckish rogues or romantic students that fought for freedom.

They were monsters.

But there was nothing incriminating about a uniform. And she had a feeling that there was more inside the chest that would reveal the truth. So she lifted the upper tray containing the rest of the uniform and peered inside. Her eyes where meet with a golden glow.

…

"Anna! We're not allowed in here!"

"But it's so cool!"

Elsa rolled her eyes, figuring it was better to go in and clean up the mess herself. She didn't want either of them to get in trouble, and as such wouldn't tattle, but she wouldn't let Anna continue. As she stepped inside, she saw an old chest laying wide open, with an old uniform spilled out on the floor with a tray lying on top of the mess.

"Elsa, see?" There's pirate gold in here!"

Scoffing at the idea that father would keep money outside the treasury, she looked inside and was surprised at the she amount of gold. One bag was filled with what appeared to be tiny bits of unshaped raw gold, another was full of coins and yet another was full of rings and other jewelry.

Elsa's mouth gaped at all the gold, as she figured at least 20 pounds must have been inside. To think father was complaining about inflation of paper currency just the other day…

Just then, King Agdar strolled into the room, having just came from a meeting with the French, where he was reminded of things he had rather had left in the past. Thus he was horrified to see his beautiful, pure, and untainted daughters sort through the one thing in the world he did not want them to see: a reminder to them how _ugly _the world can be.

Elsa turned to Anna only to see her father already in rage. She was genuinely scared, as she had never seen her father this angry at her. But he wasn't angry at her, he was angry at himself.

"ELSA!" He paused, rushing towards them. "Get away from that!"

He brushed them aside and proceeded to toss the black woolen uniform into the chest, before slamming it shut.

"Go to your rooms, and stay there until I tell you that you may leave!"

Elsa began to protest, as did Anna. "But father, why?"

"NOW!"

As he saw his daughters left, he felt a load of self-hatred and shame, for they had done nothing wrong. They were pure, it was _he _that was soiled. But they were too young to see the world as it truly was, they still believed in black and white. They were too young to learn about gray.

…

Elsa looked at all the gold, momentarily stunned at the sheer amount of it that was hidden in such a battered chest. A childlike grin appeared as she reached in and grabbed some. That was the height of joy she would feel with the chest. As she brought the rough kernels up her schooling kicked in. For rough nuggets, they all appeared to be too similar. No, geography wouldn't help here.

But odontology would.

These were not nuggets found in the ground or a stream.

They were teeth, golden teeth.

Elsa's grin disappeared as she reached her hand back into the sack, retrieving a fistful. She examined every one- they were all teeth or crowns. She was even horrified to find one that was still attached to an old, dead diseased tooth.

Her hands shook as she dropped the grim loot and grabbed from the jewelry section, a closer examination revealing that most where simple golden or silver bands, with no jewels or decorations. A few even had crusted blood on them.

Wedding rings.

A few even had inscriptions inside or out.

_Lucille and Pierre, together as one._

_To Eric, my love will be with you always._

_Jean, keep safe for me and the baby…_

She felt lightheaded, sick even, and could no longer bear to look at the blood money any more. She lifted the tray and tossed it as she screamed. As she braced the chest as she breathed heavily and fought the nausea, she stared at the bottom of the tray. It appeared to a stack of papers, military and personal, that he must have held onto for a variety of reasons. The top page of the center stack drew her attention, however.

It was a simple poster, printed in French. It was a simple notice of bounty meant for French soldiers so they could identify key rebels in a region. It depicted a simple, if flawed drawing of her father. His hair was longer and messier, he had no moustache and his face was still youthful. But it wasn't the fact that the French wanted her father that unnerved her. It was the description.

_Recherché: _

_Mort ou vif-_

_La fée des dents._

Now Elsa was not particularly gifted in French, so she didn't know much of the technical or slang terms in French. But for some reason, she knew that phrase.

_La fée des dents._

_The tooth fairy._

…

The young Guard yawned as he prepared to stand up again for the 3rd time tonight, to stay awake. He hated pulling the night shift, but his wife was expecting and the bonus that was put out was too much to be ignored. Plus the scum he was guarding were generally sleeping.

He was the CQ for the dungeon, and it was his duty to ensure things in the prison ran smoothly. Make sure nobody escaped, keep the few junior enlisted awake and sign for prisoners when they were deposited or withdrawn.

Normally he had no issue with the prisoners, as up until a few days ago they were mostly drunks and minor disciplinary offenders. And to be fair a few where still in there. But after the coup, a whole mess of them where heaped in the dungeons, and for many treason was the _least _of their crimes.

As his rear left the chair, approaching footsteps led to him planting himself back down.

_Likely the Sergeant making sure I'm not dozing off._

As such he was surprised to find a general walking in, accompanied by a few armed guards. He sprung to his feet, going to attention. As he got a better look, he recognized him as General Wilhelmsen.

"Sir, what brings you down to the dungeon, Sir?"

"Carry on, Corporal." He paused as he held a hand open and his aide, a Major placed a pen in it. "I wish to sign for some prisoners and deliver them to their sentencing."

The young Corporal was a little unsure, but nobody says no to the Chief of Staff of the army. Nobody.

"Here's the log book sir. Which ones do you need?"

The General glanced over to his aide and simply asked "Major?"

The staff officer drew a simple book and turned to a bookmarked page and began to read off names. All the ones who had been charged and sentenced with treason.

Glad to see the headaches go, he asked the general "Anything else, sir?"

The General pointed at the two cells across from him. "Who are they?"

"Well the one on the right is an artillery officer they brought down here to sleep off the alcohol, and the other-" he paused, not remembering who the other was off the top of his head. He had been there when he started pulling the night shift a few days ago, after the Great Thaw. He opened his logbook, flipping back until he saw the entry.

"Ah, Lance Corporal Malkom Gunnarsen, formally Corporal. He was sentenced with disrespecting the crown and misuse of military equipment."

The General's brow twisted with puzzlement, before relaxing. "Ah, probably got drunk and scared the Queen with his pistol. Alcohol really does make a man do funny things. Wouldn't you say, Corporal"

"If you say, so Sir."

"Well, that'll be all Corporal. Let me sign the book and I'll take these vermin off your hand."

Malkom had awoken during the commotion, and while he was not one to hide from his actions, his gut told him to pretend to still be asleep.

His gut had never given him wiser advice.

…

The corpse smiled as it drew her sword, moving toward the laid out Christian she hated so much, mail rattling. She had slept so long that all sense of self and identity had slipped away, leaving only hate and one mission only. When she had died the Christians were besieging her beloved homeland and judging by the fool in front of her, they had prevailed. As such the corpse knew her purpose- drive out the followers of the Carpenter King before destroying Rome itself. Thus never again would the cross bearers step foot in Scandinavia.

As she prepared to kill its first Christian in a millennia, the man awoke and against all odds crossed himself and smiled.

"God be praised, you truly are an angel sent to deliver us!" He proclaimed with tears of joy as he shook with excitement. The corpse paused out of curiosity. The spell she had cast to fool the Christian was exhausting and required a great deal of magic, and she had discarded it the moment she had been unbound.

So there was no reason why he would still see the angel in front of her. She presumed that the effect of the madness that was inherent with close proximity of her combined with the illusion had broken him and convinced him that she was an angel regardless of how she actually looked. She laughed, as chances were that even praising the All-father in front of him would not change his mind, as he would only hear a praise to their "One true God."

She sheathed her sword, as she now had a different use for the man. She searched the room for concealing armor and clothing as she began to command her thrall.

"So, Major. You claim this… Queen Elsa is responsible for the evil in the land?"

"Of course. The witch poisons the land with her vile magic, and is a walking Blasphemy against god!"

As she slipped into boot and put on gauntlets, covering her withered flesh, she shook her head and the idiocy of the man.

_Clearly the Queen was still Christian, or she would have had you crucified long ago you fool!_

Still, it mattered not. As she covered her face with an old steel war mask, she turned to the Major.

"Then it is clear. Raise me an army, Surtrsen. We will cast down this snow Queen and create a New Jerusalem in Scandinavia for the faithful."

_Why kill Christians when they seem so eager to kill each other?_

Bit of Notes-

So yeah, that got dark.

I always liked Agdar, but I felt that everyone tended to make him either a complete dick, or a saint. A generally nobody made use of the historical elephant in the room- the Napoleonic Wars that ended a mere 25 years prior. So I figured to make Agdar the loving family man that I believe he was, but one that had a graveyard of skeletons in his closet. Now the question is how Elsa fairs with the knowledge that her father wasn't the kind gentle soul she had been raised to believe. Elsa now has to choose whether to embrace that brutality to survive, and whether to keep that knowledge a secret from Anna.

On that front, the Corpse has plenty of its own secrets and revelations to be revealed before all is said and done. When her memory begins returning, plans will change.

The rabbit hole goes deep ladies and gentlemen. Hang on.

On a brighter note, I saw Frozen Fever yesterday, and was pretty satisfied, even if I knew almost everything going in, even though there wasn't that much content to be aware of going in (7 minutes is so short…) But I am happy for all the little tidbits included, such as a map of the region and other goodies. Now I just have to wait until first Frozen Fever is released on its lonesome so I can dissect it with a microscope, and then Frozen 2. Which will be 2018/19, if I had to guess.

Translations-

Recherché: Mort ou vif- Wanted: Dead or Alive


	5. Ch 5- And straight on till Morning

0600, July 19th, 1840

Royal Palace, Arendelle

Malkom peeled potatoes as he sat and watched the other prisoners build a large sandbag mound for the 3rd time today, wondering why he had been singled out for the light duty while the traitors did what they did. In the past the Guards made no such distinction in duty assignment, though Malkom had received preferential treatment in many cases. More Tobacco, food and water as a start, and he was bound to see his family later today, being the first Sunday of his sentence.

Also odd was how every prisoner was tagged, including him. With a color based on their crime, the others had red tags while he wore a green one, marking him as a "petty" criminal compared to their much more heinous crimes. At least officially.

It was an open secret amongst the Guard that Malkom had attempted to kill the Queen during the Great Freeze, just as they also knew he had done it to bring summer back and save his daughter who had contracted Pneumonia. The Great Thaw had somehow cured his daughter Aida, and being merciful and understanding Queen Elsa had reduced the severity of the charges upon him. Malkom nonetheless worried what would become of him if the fanatical Grenadiers discovered his true crime.

As he peeled well over his hundredth potato of the morning, a commotion began to occur. A number of Grenadiers arrived to reinforce the number already standing guard, as well as a few wagons and a few officers. Something was about to go down.

…

Hours earlier Elsa had laid down to bed, her mind swimming with thoughts. Having discovered a glimpse of her father's dark past, Elsa was barely holding it together. She worried about whether or not lying to her sister and friend Anna was the right course, she worried about her father's legacy, and worst of all she worried about her own morality.

Elsa had many issues regarding her self-control regarding magic, but there was always one area she felt confident in- her lineage. She had seen how her beloved Papa had handled a seemingly endless series of crisis with a calm expression and tone, never faltering even under the cloud of war. He always seemed to do the right thing while being intelligent about it when young Elsa watched her father govern, so that one day she may be able to do the same. In other words, while she struggled to control her magic, she was always convinced that she came from inherently good, reposed stock. That because her parents where good people in full control of their emotions, one day she could too.

But that was all a lie wasn't it. Her beloved father, the bedrock of her moral foundation may have been a war criminal. She had done some light reading on the "Tooth Fairy" and was appalled by what little she found. Routine slaughter of French noncombatant troops. Killing Prisoners. Torture. Mutilation of bodies. And the possible massacre of entire village, though unproven. What little comfort she got from it was that he may not have done all of the horrible things attributed to him, but that he certainly permitted his subordinates to do so.

She was her father's daughter. And now that _terrified _Elsa.

She was also torn on how to handle the knowledge she had learned. She didn't want to lie to Anna or keep secrets from her, but she didn't want to shatter Anna's perception of their father. Anna also loved their late father, despite his parenting faults. While he separated the two girls for 10 years and up until his death, he had also shown his girls nothing but love. He had scolded them at times, sure, but he was never cruel. This most of all confused Elsa. How such a loving, decent father could have committed such horrific deeds?

With that thought in her head, Elsa finally drifted off to sleep.

…

It was only a few short hours later when Elsa awoke to the drums, She awoke in a perplexed annoyed mood as the Guard's band had been forbidden to play at such early hours for centuries as not to wake sleeping monarchs. Especially on a Sunday Morning, effectively her only day off during the week. She shouted a disgruntled order at the Guardsmen she knew where outside her door to shut that racket up. As she attempted to sleep while they carried out her command, she noticed that rather than any beat she knew, it was just a solid, continuous drum roll.

_How odd…_

Suddenly the drums stopped, and she heard some shouting from the courtyard. Had she been up and alert, her mind would have told her that it took more than a minute to move through the castle and get outside, and to relay an order. But she was exhausted, and her logical center of her brain was not in operation yet.

_Must be the Guard telling the Grenadiers to shut it._

She began to drift off when a volley of gunfire erupted. Elsa at this point leaped out of bed, as a blast of ice magic pulsing from her body through fear and adrenaline. Noticing her sudden loss of control, Elsa closed her eyes and regained her composure. As the ice disappeared thanks to the calming thoughts of Anna, she conjured an ice robe and swiftly departed her bedroom.

Expecting to see the guard and staff react to an attack, only to see people milling about. The Guard seemed nonchalant, simply manning their posts without any concern, while the servants looked merely startled. She turned to the nearest Guard, and began to yell.

"Guardsman! What is going on? Are we under attack?"

"No, your majesty. All is fine, please get some rest."

"No! I heard gunshots!"

Almost on cue, a single gunshot was heard. Elsa jumped from the shock, creating another patch of frost on the floor.

"Your Majesty, we are not under attack! All is fine." The Guard attempted to calm the Queen down as he felt a significant chill emanating from the Queen. He was under orders to not reveal what was being carried out under the Queen's nose, and to delay it as long as possible.

But Elsa was having none of it.

"_What is that_?" She turned away from the stammering Guardsman, to nearby window, casting it open and peering outside.

A mound of sandbags had been constructed in the courtyard of the castle against one of the walls, with several wagons with horses hitched to them on the opposite side, teamsters waiting for something. Grenadiers milled about, all armed while officers watched the whole affair. Elsa was no expert on military affairs, but if this was a coup, it was the sloppiest and most poorly conceived coup in history. Judging by the cases of ammunition lying about, she made the guess that it was some sort of range.

But that made no sense, either. There were no targets, and the amount of men on the firing line far exceeded any firing range she had ever seen. Also, it'd be a poor test of marksmanship to hit a target mere meters away. There were Grenadiers moving tan sacks away from the target line, as Elsa tried to figure out what was happening.

_What are those? Perhaps they are targets, but they are unlike any target I have ever seen. They appear to be made from the same materiel as sandbags. But they're too long! Sandbags are a little under two feet long, yet these appear as tall as a man._

Like Ice water, it hit her. She brought a hand to her mouth as she realized what was occurring in _her _castle, _her home. _

It was an execution by firing Squad.

As she recoiled in horror, another batch of the traitors was roughly led out into the square at gunpoint, with plenty of shoves from the Grenadiers. Being placed in front of the mound an officer raised a sword and shouted an order to the firing squad, as a drum roll began. Elsa shouted but couldn't be heard over the drums.

Frantic to put a stop to all this, she turned from the window and began to sprint down the stairs despite the Guard posted at the door's objection. Not caring a damn that she was hardly dressed regally or hadn't prepared in any way, she moved like the wind, barefoot in her own castle. Guards and Servants alike raised objections and begged Elsa to stop, but she would not have the deaths of untried men on her conscious. Not if she could help it.

She nearly made it to the door when the drum roll stopped. In desperation she nearly leapt the last few meters and threw the doors open, screaming at her soldiers to stop.

She was greeted with gunfire.

She watched helplessly as the condemned men jerked and twisted before collapsing. She could do little but stare as the treasonous men's blood began to seep over the cobblestone, life fading from them. At his point, the soldiers noticed their Queen and turned to face her, despite not having been given the order to fall out.

Elsa looked at the soldiers who returned their Monarch's gaze and were confused by her expression of horror. As she scanned their puzzled stare, she herself was perplexed. For men who just killed men in cold blood, they hardly looked the part of executioners. These were youthful men eager to serve Queen and country, their expressions matched that of a cat that had brought a dead bird to its owner and was puzzled why their master wasn't happy with the gift.

Her face twisted with anger, as she forcibly walked into the square, as soldiers moved out of the way not wishing to incur the Queen's wrath. She moved to the firing party and confronted the officer leading it, a young Captain who appeared to be stunned by the turn of events.

"YOU!" She shouted while closing the last few paces. The young captain instinctively turned his head left and right, looking for someone else that Queen Elsa could be yelling at.

"No, you!" She stood inches away from him, the magic chill seeping through his wool tunic and into his bones, as he shrunk from fear. "What in god's name made you think you had the authority to execute these men?! This is my Castle, these were my prisoners! And I will not stand for this!"

Before he could respond, a groan came from one of the shot men rose up. Having not been hit anywhere immediately fatal, the man began to beg for help. Ignoring the man, the Captain began to protest.

"Y-y-your Majesty, I had orders, and these men were transferred to my jurisdiction, and-"

"Who ordered this? And-"She stopped mid-sentence before gesturing to the shot man. "Somebody do something about that man!"

The Captain paused, not sure what to do. He knew what the regulations said. Any man merely wounded by the firing squad was to be given a coup de grace by the officer commanding the execution. However the Queen of all people was here telling him to save the man. As a result of such turmoil the man froze, stammering as General Wilhelmsen strolled into the courtyard.

Never one to be inefficient he promptly gestured to the wounded man and sternly dressed down the Captain. "Captain what is the meaning of this!?"

Elsa felt a bit relieved to see the General at this time. If the Grenadier Officer Corps wouldn't respect her, they would respect a General. Before she could concur with the General, he resumed speaking.

"You know the Regulations, Captain. Why hasn't this man been dealt with?"

"Sir, the Queen objected to the execution and I was unsure-"

"Of course the Queen objected to the execution, Captain. She a kind, merciful person." He calmly drew his revolver as walked over to the gasping shot man and promptly shot him in the head. "As soldiers we are not. _We_ spill blood, to keep _her_ clean." He holstered his pistol, as every soul in the courtyard stood there in amazement of the General's sheer bravado. Oblivious to it all or just not caring, General Wilhelmsen turned to Queen Elsa and bowed.

"My apologies that you had to see that, Your Majesty. But I am happy to report that all the traitors have been executed and will no longer stain Arendelle with their existence. " He paused, before smiling in a very smug way. "Perhaps her Majesty now sees how loyal her soldiers, officers and _generals _are to her?"

Elsa stood in disbelief, not because of the man's blatant shooting of a prisoner she did not wish killed. It dawned on her now. This was the General from yesterday who had stormed out. She now knew why. He had been upset because she doubted his loyalty, which was telegraphed when she ordered them to report _without _their troops. He felt like he needed to prove himself.

Indirectly, this whole mess was _her _fault.

…

He wasn't there for long, but he was there long enough.

Adolph was the only surviving triplet of his brothers to survive the coup. Due to his prior crime of rape and murder in addition to the blanket charge of treason, he had been selected by General Wilhelmsen to be an example to the city, the country, and the world.

He had been led out to the town square before the sun had come up, and it wasn't long before they found a suitable light pole to string him up on. After a few short minutes of fruitless struggle he dangled lifelessly under guard for a few hours before Elsa ordered the man cut down. The damage was done however. He had been seen, as had the placard around his neck.

_I am a criminal and traitor who betrayed my Queen and my country._

He wasn't there for long, but he had been there long enough.

…

The Senior officers of the Arendelle Army all stood at attention, as Queen Elsa stood, now fully dressed and looking _quite _upset. Hindsfjell, Wilhelmsen, Marcks represented the Army with Lieutenant Gumrak representing the Royal Guard, who had collaborated with Wilhelmsen's men. They quietly stood, waiting for the inevitable ass-chewing.

"Gentlemen, what the hell where you thinking!? Do you know how much damage this will cause? I am trying to establish the legitimacy of my rule, and you undermine it with this travesty!"

"Your Majesty, it is insanity that you have to establish your right to rule to begin with!" Wilhelmsen began. "These men were traitors and criminals all! That we gave most of them a respectable death by firing squad was mercy!"

"It is MY judgement that determines whether traitors face the noose or firing squad, NOT you!"

Hindsfjell spoke up with a calm, reasonable voice. "Not entirely true, your majesty. While you have the authority to decide the fate of any subject of Arendelle, as Chief of Staff of the Army and Inspector General Wilhelmsen has the right to charge and arrest servicemen with any crime he as suitable evidence for, with final judicial authority lying with that soldier's Regimental Commander."

"Those men where not assigned to any regiment, Marshal."

"Not so, Your Majesty. All were transferred to my Regiment last night." It was Marcks speaking now. "And as their new Regimental Commander, I agreed with General Wilhelmsen's recommendation."

Elsa looked at all the Army officer's with disbelief, before her mind did what it did best, logically connecting dots and putting things into place. It was true, they were right. She had not pardoned or tried the men, and as such where open to military justice. And all were former soldiers who had not yet finished their sentences when they attempted the coup. She scoffed in frustration, before turning her anger towards her own Guardsmen.

"And _why _was an armed party of Grenadiers permitted allowed into _my _castle!"

Gumrak shifted his feet and eyes, before beginning his explanation.

"Your Majesty, as Officer of the Guard for last night, I was made fully aware of the Firing Party's intentions. As all their documents where in order, I permitted them to use the castle grounds for security reasons."

"Security Reasons?"

"These were dangerous men, your Majesty. Any transfer may have resulted in escape. I regret disturbing your sleep, but I stand by my actions."

"My Sleep? I would have gladly been awaken to prevent this from happening! Why would you decide that men's lives would be less important than my sleep!? They did not need to die!"

Always possessing his own brand of justice, likely inspired from an upbringing in Russia, Gumrak's face twisted in disgust at the thought that the traitors being deserving of mercy. "Your Majesty, these were not men! These were vermin that did not deserve to take up even a wink of your sleep!"

Elsa grasped her head, wondering if the world had gone completely mad. Men she once turned to for sage advice had gone completely mad, and yet she had to rely on these men as they were her only real allies. But for today she was disgusted.

"Gentlemen, leave me."

Being obedient soldiers, they all bowed and promptly left, leaving Elsa alone. She sighed and turned to look out the window. The bodies had already been carted away and the last of the sandbags where being loaded now. She had stressed how important that the scene of the execution be sterilized before Anna woke. She would certainly be told, but Elsa desperately wanted to keep Anna away from the stark reality of it all.

It at least was not a total disaster. A few traitors who had minor offenses and as such had did their time in prison before being released prior to the coup had already been transferred to the civil penal system. They had been tried and sentenced to either exile or labor camps in the mountains. They were safe. Only one remained in peril, and she decided earlier to deal with him.

She waited a few moments, to make sure that the fanatical officers were out of earshot. "Send him in." She took a deep breath and relaxed into a reposed, calm regal pose rather than the bewildered and angry look she had carried over from the last group in her office.

Malkom Gunnarsen entered the room, before propping to attention. Elsa looked over the nervous prisoner and guessed that after today's events, he could very well fear for his life. She wouldn't even doubt that he believed that she could be the one to order it.

"Malkom Gunnarsen, as you have no doubt have been made aware of, Arendelle is not the safest place for those who have done anything remotely close to treason. As such I would have normally have had you transferred to a different prison. However, no other prison would likely be willing to let your family visit. As such I have ordered that you be assigned to the 2nd Landwehr Regiment in Grimstad at the crown's expense.

Malkom nervously smiled, before bowing to Elsa. "Thank you, Your Majesty! I cannot say how grateful I am!"

"I would suggest you waste no time getting packed with the current environment."

The pardoned man bowed yet again before uttering another "Thank you, Your Majesty" before leaving. With the man gone she slumped in her chair in a very unladylike way, forcibly exhaling. She still had no idea what she was going to say to Anna, who thankfully was still asleep. But sooner or later, she would have to face this dilemma.

…

The corpse watched as Surtrsen laid the several bags of goods on her dining table, all containing what she needed. Some things were not easy to come by, and she was glad that gold prices had gone down since her time. Being buried with an effective fortune certainly had its drawbacks, even though her brain ached with questions of who she was. Regardless, even a small portion of her treasury got her everything she needed.

"Is there anything else you need, your Holiness?" He asked, eyes glazed over with insanity. She marveled at just how quickly his mind snapped, but then again, her powers had been simmering up for so long that it just seeped out of her like an overflowing pot. At this point she doubted she could twist anybody that fast anymore.

"That will be all, Alan. When do you plan to begin?"

"Tonight, I will meet with some men who share my faith. There we will flesh out a plan."

"Very well. I will see you tonight."

As the Major left, the Corpse began tearing open the bags, conducting an inventory of the crucial things she needed. She was entranced by the wonders of this future age that she discovered in catalogs and advertisements, but those things would have to wait. It was good that she was disciplined. Although Tryggvason was by Surtrsen's own words a "Backwater", it far exceeded even the greatest cities she had seen when alive, at least the few foggy thoughts she could remember anyway. It took great will to stick to the things she needed, and as such now lay on the table.

First there was the clothing. As much as she hated the female fashion of this century, it would be unwise of her to stick out until she was ready to reveal herself. She still wore the mask as a veil would simply not conceal her mummified face, but everything else was found quite easily, as fashion of the era certainly did not have problems concealing the female body. Gloves, a dress and coat that went to the neck and shoe clad feet were hardly abnormal fashion. She also had to wear a cloak and hood to hide the rest of her head, but that was still better than chainmail armor and furs.

Second, and most important was the perfume. It amazed her that her nose still worked, and while she didn't care about it, she knew she smelled like a corpse. While she had chosen a low rent room near a slaughtering plant, she knew she could not move freely about until she no longer smelled repugnant. She had already had to send a burst of insanity directly into the property's land lady's head to prevent her from questioning the smell when she rented the property, as well as to look the other way on some of her more unusual activities.

Which led to the last thing. Sitting in her basement apartment was a goat tied up to a pole, sitting near a great metal tub. She locked the door, before stripping down to her blue, withered flesh. After all she did not wish to get blood on her clothes or armor. Seizing a knife, she then approached the goat, which cried softly as it could feel something unnatural was in the room. She then seized the goat's head and violently slashed its throat open. As it fell she twisted the goat's neck as to direct the gushing blood into the tub.

As the goat jerked during its last moments, the corpse grabbed a tin cup and began to drink the life-blood of the goat, relishing it. Feeling the pains of hunger after so long, the corpse also ripped a leg off, somewhat uncaring that some blood would be lost. But before she could take a bite, she was hit by a flash.

_She was a little girl again, a living little girl._

_She sat in a great hall, during a feast. She grabbed a large chunk of meat and proceeded to try to stick as much of it as possible into her small mouth. As she did she received a light slap on the back of her head. She turned to see an older woman, perhaps her mother? She couldn't remember._

"_Ásta! You are a lady, act like it!"_

And just like that, it was over. She played the scene out in her head over and over, clutching to the only actual memory she had of life. She had had beliefs, prejudices, hatred and enemies up to this point. She knew she hated the Christian church, she even knew why. But she lacked any memory telling her anything why she hated them other than a list of crimes they committed.

She set the goat leg down, as she prepared to properly skin and dress the animal. She would of course drink the goat's blood to tide her over, but she was a Lady. She would cook and eat the goat properly as that's what she would have done in life. Memories are funny like that.

She looked back at the table, where she had a great many possessions. She had gold and some of the finest mail and weapons of her time. She also had a great many bottles of perfume and clothes that many poor women would kill to own. But all of it dwarfed to what she now had.

She had a name.

Her name was Ásta.

Bit o' Notes

So yeah, this may have been my most rewrite heavy chapter yet. Almost every paragraph got at least one rewrite, and the final bit got rewritten 4 times for various reasons. Things got added, other stuff got taken out, all in all this more of an editorial challenge then a writing one. But, I like to turn out quality work rather than crap, so be it.

I had requests to bring Malkom back, so here he is. However, we aren't seeing him again for a while. While I like the character, he serves a fairly one note role of being a stand in for the desperation of the common folk of Arendelle. Now that he's no longer in the capital, we shan't be seeing more of him.

I finally gave Surtrsen's home region a name, Tryggvason. Named after the first Christian King of Norway to severely oppress Pagans, It is entirely fictional. I could have used a real town but I decided against it. Since it's filled with a bunch of rabid, bible-thumping psycho Christians, I decided that rather than allege that an actual town in Norway is backwards and filled with intolerant assholes. I wouldn't like someone doing that to my hometown, so for the sake of my possible Norwegian readers to not do that. For those of you wondering what Arendelle's borders look like, Look up Aust-Agder. That'll give you a rough idea.

Next chapter will be a lot less drama heavy as things calm down a bit in Arendelle. However I can assure y'all that the worst has yet to come.

Keep Reading and Reviewing,

-Dragunov


	6. Chapter 6- Follow through

July 20th, 1840

Arendelle

Elsa waited for the coach to arrive, slightly impatient but not too terribly annoyed. After all it was her own fault, sort of. The event was scheduled for a few hours earlier, but had been delayed to allow the Queen a few hours extra sleep after being woken extremely early the day prior. The reality of these sort of things however is that changes to the plan causes things to go awry. As such the coach was over 10 minutes late.

While impatient, Elsa was understanding that such things happen in life. Her sister Anna, not so much.

"For goodness sake, what's taking them so long?!"

"I don't know Anna. Be patient."

"There we go!" Anna pointed towards the stable, where some of Metzger's cavalrymen brought out their horses, preparing to go on patrol. "Why didn't I think of that? Elsa, let's just use horses. It'll be quicker and more enjoyable than a carriage."

Elsa brushed the idea, before looking down into the dirt, embarrassed. "No Anna, I… I can't"

"What do you mean? You're the Queen! If you want to ride, I doubt the carriage coaches are going to be cross at you!"

"No Anna…" Elsa blushed, before mumbling. "I can't ride a horse, I don't know how."

Anna scoffed, before blindly stating the obvious. "How do you not know how to ride? Papa taught us when we turned 10." Far too late, Anna realized the error in her judgement before Elsa shot her an annoyed look.

"Oh."

"Yes, Oh. I couldn't exactly learn horsemanship in my room, now could I?"

"Not even during-"

"Not even during the false dawn."

The two sisters stewed in their thought as the crushing hope of the 'false dawn' resurfaced. Even now that they were reunited, the memory was just two biter to bear. As such they waited in silence until at long last a carriage pulled up, its crew going through the long practiced process of turning over the carriage. The castle was too crowded for an honest carriage garage, especially those meeting the Queen's standards. As such, the city's carriage service provided the Royal family the carriages they needed.

For security reasons however, the Queen could not be expected to blindly climb into a coach that was unaccounted for. As such the civilian crew dismounted as members of the Royal Guard took their place, with five men total. One rode on the back hitch, two on the side struts, and the final two up front. All were armed with at least a sword and revolver, with the man riding next to the driver armed with a Needle Gun. As a few Guardsmen thoroughly inspected the interior and undercarriage of the coach, the man up front loaded a cartridge into his rifle. After a few minutes, the Sergeant commanding the detail gave an all clear, indicating that they were safe to travel.

"Well, Anna. Let us go."

…

It was a fairly short ride, with their wait time being longer than the ride itself, before they pulled up to the destination. It was a military rifle range on the outskirts of town, long used by soldiers to practice firing ability. It wasn't too terrible large, as until recently it was expected that soldiers would engage a singular target as a mass formation, rather than stress a single soldier's marksmanship. It wasn't until her father, who spent his entire career with either Guerillas or the Rifles, who decided that it was important to stress individual shooting ability.

The purpose of the day's visit was the Queen's official inspection and observation of the Army's new service rifle, the _Versuch Gewehr Modell 1836. _They would obviously adopt their own designation once the Queen approved it for service at the end of the trial period, but for now they used the Prussian designation. But for today, the Prussian designed rifle would be presented to the Queen before she would make a final decision whether or not to adopt the rifle.

As Elsa exited her coach, a number of officers approached, with most bowing. She recognized Marcks as one of the men bowing, the rest being junior Landwehr officers. The two who did not bow where two men wearing blue tunics with red collars, cuffs and piping. With their rigid bearing and air of superiority, Elsa could have identified them as Prussians even if she hadn't been taught uniform recognition from an early age. Rather than bow, all they did offer was a stiff salute. Elsa did not show anger at the men, knowing better than to bite the hand that feeds her.

"Good Morning, Gentlemen." She greeted them all, before turning to the Prussian officers. "I do not believe we have met?"

"Queen Elsa, my name is _Hauptman _Funke and this is my assistant _Leutnant _Grunwald. We are the advisors sent to help oversee the adoption of the needle rifle into your army's service."

"Of course, I was informed of your presence some time ago. I was also told you had accompanied the army's campaign into the mountains. What observations can you make of the new rifle based on that?"

"Well, we wrote a full report on the matter, but the issue was the lack of serious or prolonged fighting during the campaign. As such my superiors have _advised _performing full field trials to put the rifle through serious and rugged tests."

Elsa nodded, knowing full well the context of the statement. If you want the Prussians to keep delivering rifles, keep dancing for them. She fully expected something like this to happen, as she always understood that the agreement to be that Arendelle endure the teething pains of fielding the Needle gun. Only when all the kinks have been identified and corrected would the Prussians produce the rifle for itself, putting Prussian soldiers in minimal risk. However, Arendelle would be equipped with the rifles as well, making their equipment cutting edge.

"I see. I will be sure to mention this to my General Staff. Shall we carry on to the demonstration?"

"Of course, Queen Elsa."

The small group was then guided over to the range itself, where a table had been set up. On the table was a number of the new rifles, with a few of each variant. As of now there was a full length model for the infantry with two types of carbines- a medium model for engineers and artillerymen, and the shortest for cavalrymen. Also adorning the table was a large number of cartridges, as well as other accessories. A Grenadier Sergeant stood by, bowing when the official party near.

"Your majesty, good morning. Today I will demonstrate the operation of the Needle rifle, and proceed to assist you, if you choose to."

"Very well, carry on Sergeant."

A sergeant clicked his heels together and bowed his head slightly, before moving to the table. Picking up one of the infantry models, he quickly racked the bolt action back revealing the empty chamber.

"To load the Model 1836 one must first turn the bolt action firmly to the left and proceed to pull it back, as I have done. This exposes the chamber and allows for loading."

The Sergeant proceeded to take one of the cartridges on the table, loading it into the firing chamber of the rifle. As he began to speak again, he mirrored his speech with the corresponding action.

"Upon loading the cartridge, you push the bolt action forward, locking it in place by turning the bolt 45 degrees to the right. At this point you merely have to push the firing pin assembly forward and it is ready to fire. Please cover your ears."

As the gathered crowd did as advised, the Sergeant shoulder the rifle, aiming down range for a brief moment before firing. As expected, the rifle thundered, causing Elsa and Anna to wince as well as the junior officers. Marcks was the only one to stay still.

"And that your majesty is how one loads and discharges the Model 1836 rifle."

There was some scattered applause, with some note taking for the observers as Anna was nearly hopping up and down with excitement as she knew that after Elsa, she would be permitted an opportunity to shoot. And knowing her older sister, she would pass.

The Sergeant cycled the bolt to the open position before setting it down on the table. Drawing a cavalry carbine more suited to a smaller frame, he turned to his Queen.

"Your majesty, would you care to shoot the rifle?"

To the household officers' great surprise, Elsa replied. "Yes Sergeant, I'd like a try."

Elsa slipped on her gloves as a precaution, as she had always done when handling firearms. She had not had many opportunities to do so, but her father had taken her shooting in the courtyard while Anna was traveling more than once. As such she remember the fundamentals. She did her best to ignore the whispers and points of some of the Officers, as well as their smirks and soft laughter. Being cadre Landwehr officers, these men where hardly the model of loyal officers. More like committed mercenaries.

As she took the rifle and loaded a cartridge, it was almost like she could hear her father's word's guiding her aim.

_Set the stock firmly against you and lean forward._

She placed her left foot forward in a straddle stance, with her cheek firmly into a stock-weld. Now Elsa wasn't exactly an incredibly strong woman physically, so she struggled to keep her left arm steady and extended. But she dared not disobey her father's teachings.

_Get a good sight picture, and relax your body and mind._

She began to take deep breaths in and out as she scanned for an appropriate target. A target was set out at 100 meters, which Elsa focused in on.

_Exhale Elsa, and gently squeeze-_

Elsa was slightly surprised when the shot rang out, however due to her solid position it had the desired effect. Her father had always told her that it was best to be surprised, as your body would not anticipate the shot and you would not flinch. This did little for the fact that her small frame was not exactly well built for firing a .61 caliber cartridge. Her shoulder felt immediately sore, but Elsa retained her regal posture and expression.

The range's spotter looked through her binoculars, a slight smile forming on his face.

"Good shot, your Majesty. Outer bull's-eye. That could have been a head shot."

The Officer's smiles faded from their lips, causing Elsa to smile herself. One of the Officers was still not impressed.

"Beginner's luck your Majesty?"

Elsa simply smiled while tilting her head, before immediately turning to the table. Without missing a beat she quickly reloaded the rifle and fired again, pausing only to develop steady aim. And in order to quell all debate, she loaded a third cartridge and fired again before being spotted.

The range spotter waited a brief moment before raising his field glasses to spot. Nodding his head up and down, he lowered them again with a shrug.

"Not bad. I've seen much better groupings, but not bad for an amateur shooter who's standing. No offence, your majesty."

"None taken soldier." She turned to the others, before continuing. "If you'll excuse me, I have a considerable amount of work to attend to. Anna feel free to stay here, I'll be sure to join you for lunch."

Before she could see their reactions, Elsa began to regally stroll away. She wasn't ready to admit it, but she regretted her bravado immensely. Already she was feeling her shoulder swell after firing three shots from a .61 caliber rifle. It had been ages since she last shot and even that was a training carbine. She hoped to escape to her carriage and retire for the day.

Before she could, Anna caught up to her. "Elsa, are you okay? I thought you intended to stay longer?"

"I did, but my shoulder is throbbing right now. And while I did intend to stay an hour, I do actually have work to do. You stay here and enjoy yourself, Anna."

Anna shook her head. "No Elsa. There'll be other opportunities to go shooting. For now let's go home."

"Very well, Anna. You may want to get some rest as well. Tomorrow we finally meet cousin Rapunzel."

As the two sister boarded the carriage, Colonel Marcks silently observed the duo, making mental notes.

_Well, she can shoot, and she can mask pain very well. Certainly good qualities in a leader. Let's just hope that when it comes time for it, she can take life._

…

London, England

In one of the many buildings that lined Whitehall, two men met in a dim room. It would normally be hot and stuffy, if this was anywhere in the world but London in the summer. As such one of the gentlemen removed a wet coat and hat, and the other watched the rain streak down the window sill, before rising to meet his acquaintance.

"Mr. Thomas, glad to see you old friend! How's Theodore?"

"Not bad Mr. Atkins. He survived the Pox, so that's no longer looming over our head, thank god."

"That's fantastic. Let's just hope god in heaven is as merciful to all of our children, eh?"

"Indeed. Now, to business."

Now neither man was exactly a public figure, but they weren't nobodies either. Mister Thomas was a senior official in the War Department, while Mister Adkins was in the diplomatic service. What the two had in common was their backgrounds as 'exploring officers' in the Great War. As such they the two had formed a small group in order to promote cross departmental cooperation. A ring of spies basically.

Their goal was simple- promote the interest of the Crown and Country, while answering to the Prime Minister himself. How they did this was generally less than pretty, but that came with the territory. Hence, today's meeting.

"Of course. Queen Elsa of Arendelle."

"Yes, that simply won't do. She has to go."

"I agree. You and I know that one of the thing's holding Europe together is the Royal Navy. She threatens that. At the same time it has to be done indirectly. The PM wants to keep our options open, which blatant aggression would certainly nip."

"Naturally. So we do what we always do in the North Sea."

"Weselton. Last I heard he's terrified of our young Sorceress. Not really reliable."

"I'm certain there's other men in Weselton's employ. Ones who'll display initiative."

"I'll use my lads to find the man you need. I'll need resources however."

"That's already been taken care of. A ship's already on its way to offload _that_ cargo right now."

…

Tryggvason, Northern Arendelle

It had taken longer than promised to gather his collaborators than promised, and that made Ásta twitch. She didn't like being idle, and while she told herself that it only meant more time to meditate and rediscover herself, nothing came to her in the entire day of silence. And as bad as an idle day was, at least it was peaceful.

Now, the corpse stood quietly in the back as Surtrsen began to address the other men in the room. She hardly paid attention to the ramblings of a man whose brain she cooked ages ago. She passed the time by repeating her new found name in her head, as her lips moved to mouth the word.

_Ásta. Ásta. Ásta. ÁSTA._

It gave her a warm feeling every time she repeated it, as if she regained a little bit more of herself. She had no fear of discovery, as she still wore the hood and mask as well as gloves to conceal her blue, dead flesh, which helped but still drew stares from the others in the room.

Picked as they shared Surtrsen's beliefs and generally his treasonous thoughts, Surtrsen had decided that they would be the ruling council for when he launched his mutiny. For the most part they all seemed to be weak willed like him, though of a much more submissive nature. Surtrsen was submissive to his own ego and delusions of grandeur, while these men flocked to any strong Christian leader. She felt tempted to just kill them where they sat and raise an army of the _true _faith and lead that force against Elsa.

_But that would be sloppy, now wouldn't it? Every moment I exist in the shadows, every step south I march in obscurity, is precious._

She looked back at the gathered men, glad that her steel mask hid her face. Not only could she relax her magic from showing her true form, but she also she didn't have to conceal any feelings of hate and disdain for these hollow men, mere shadows of the Viking ancestors she led in combat. She knew what evil these men would unleash under the cross, what they would do in the name of the carpenter king. It sickened her.

That's what she counted on.

For the people to accept the Gods of their ancestors again, they had to reject the Christ god. And if they could see how the Christians converted people at sword point, how they raped and killed all who stood in the way in the name of God, they would renounce their Jesus Christ. Once they saw that Christianity was a religion of control and slavery, and that the Old ways was a religion of faith and freedom, they would finally understand.

These fools would unleash a wave of death and destruction, forever alienating these people from the Roman sickness. And from the ashes would rise a glorious rebirth of the Old Gods. And with her power, she would lead them south, east and west and stamp out every trace of Christendom. Rome would burn, as would every church, bible, and psalm book. She would do to them what had been done to her people.

As her mind raced with dreams of glorious victory, a fist slamming on the table ripped her out of her pleasant thoughts and immediately put her in a bad mood. The culprit was another officer named Haraldsen, with white hair and sour expression. She had made a mental note of him earlier as he was one of the few with any mental will whatsoever. She figured he would be trouble.

"Surtrsen, you are blind! Do you not see that she is a demon sent from hell to lead us astray!?"

"Preposterous! She appeared to me as an angel, clearly-"

"You are a fool! Was Lucifer not an angel once too? Do you think that the enemy is incapable of taking the forms of angels and leading us astray?"

"We are marching against the sorceress witch! It is clearly god's will!"

"I do not pretend to know God's will, Surtrsen. Nor will I judge Elsa's actions until I know more. After all, one could have called our Lord and Savior's miracles "sorcery", could they not?"

"That is Blasphemy!" Surtrsen cried out as he slammed his fist onto the table, his blood boiling from rage. The corpse decided it was time to act. She emerged from the shadow and before anyone could as much as say a word she drove a dagger into the man's heart, killing him instantly.

Knowing she had to explain this to the sheep surrounding her, she willed magic into her mouth, allowing her to speak in an angelic voice, the voice they'd expect.

"Haraldsen was mistaken, for he did not know the truth. The truth that god has shown me, and I have shown Surtrsen. Queen Elsa IS a sorceress, and she does the devil's work. She must be killed."

The rest of the men dared not counter her argument, for they were cattle. All but one. A young officer sat near where she stood, with blond hair and the seeing glasses on his face. He possessed a frail body and had a skinny face that had yet to grow the facial hair of a man. But this man had free will in him, she didn't doubt it for a second. Behind her mask a grin cracked across her face as she looked at him.

_Oh, yes. He will do nicely._

Her thoughts were disrupted by Surtrsen looking for guidance. "Your Holiness, we are then in agreement to rebel. What are we to do next?"

"Surtrsen, I trust that you can eliminate the loyalist officers in my stead. Once this is done, we must raise a force to march south. I trust that the population will give us the forces we need to defeat the Snow Queen?"

"I do. But, what about you?"

"I ride south. It's about time I see this Snow Queen with my own two eyes."

…

Bit o' Notes

Sorry for the long update time, even if these things have sadly become routine. I try to push things out monthly, but well, work's a bitch. Well, that and I hit a pretty bad bit of writer's block half way through. Followed by laziness and procrastination.

Shout out to H. G. Wells for the Whitehall concept, and idea that did drastically change a few things in upcoming events and helping to build a more consistent universe. I don't always act on my reviewers' ideas, but when I do I thank the reviewer. That's all for now, folks.

Deuces,

Dragunov


	7. Chapter 7- Footsteps and Whispers

July 21st, 1840

Arendelle Outskirts

It was another very early Scandinavian morning when the carriage pulled up, with Guardsmen dismounting to check the perimeter as was their duty. As the Queen's Own personal guardsmen, they executed this task quickly and efficiently, before the Queen stepped out.

Any doubt that this was indeed the right place vanished as Elsa saw the horse she had given to her contact mere days before. As such Elsa waited patiently until out of the mist the contact arrived. Wearing faded a faded brown jacket and pants, with a tan slouch hat and black boots, the contact certainly did go for inconspicuous, with a few issues. For starters, the red cotton kerchief acting to wick sweat from the neck did its best but failed to cover the grey undershirt that every soldier was issued. Secondly a knife and revolver hung from the belt, not to mention the arsenal strapped to the horse. Clearly this was a dangerous person. And of course finally, there was the biggest issue with the ability to blend in.

The contact was a woman.

"Ms. Holstadt, thank you for lending your services again. I do hope you've been successful."

The soldier turned spy shifted before clasping her hands in her lap, smiling. "Well your Majesty, I found the man you wanted, and he's ready to talk to you." She paused, before finishing. "And by the way, feel no need to thank me. I'm more than willing to serve the Queen in any capacity that keeps me in trousers."

Elsa kept a regal and stoic face even if she was very perplexed on the actions and dressing habits of the spy. Now Elsa had been taught a great many things that were not considered feminine, and she had even had to don trousers to do them. But she had always considered herself a Lady. And Elsa determined there was very little womanly qualities in Holstadt. But Elsa was a pragmatist. Here, she needed a loyal spy, not a Lady.

"Have you been briefed on your next mission?"

"Yes, your Majesty. The good Colonel has been informed of possible trouble in the north. I'm to verify."

Elsa nodded, causing Eva to smile, revealing slightly crooked teeth from a life of brawling and outdoor activity. Eager to get to work, she swiftly mounted her horse. Tipping her hat as a salute, she stated a simple "Farewell, your Majesty" before spurring her horse down the road. Elsa sighed, before tackling the task on hand.

The young Queen entered through the farm yard gate into the small clearing, surrounded by pine trees and dominated by a simple homestead on a slight rise. But the figure of main importance was already at work, splitting firewood. The older man had white hair and a full beard, but the areas his widow's peak and beard did not cover showed heavy scarring. His rough hands and vacant green eyes were just as telling in the simple fact that this man had seen more war than a man should.

This was why Elsa was here. The man was named Friedrich Bauer, and he held the distinction of being the only surviving member of her father's Freikorps band left in Arendelle. He was only one of two people left in Northern Europe able to tell her late father's tale, the other being King Frederick of the Southern Isles. And Elsa didn't think she was ready to talk to him yet.

"Mister Friedrich?"

"Ja, ja I'm here." He stopped splitting wood before turning to face the daughter of his former commander. "Do me a favor, just call me Bauer. With two freds in the band, it's all I was called anyways."

"As you wish… Bauer. I was told you served with my father in the Freikorps. As such I have some questions-"

Driving his axe deeply into a final cord of fire wood, he stopped and turned to face the queen. "Found daddy's war chest, have you?"

Elsa cast her eyes down for a moment, before shifting in discomfort. "…Yes."

"Well, I'll fully admit right now, I never knew your da' too well. I got there later, after he lost friends. He wasn't too interested in making more."

"Why?"

"Isn't it obvious? So when we got killed, it wouldn't bother him. Not that he didn't care for us as his men. He was a good commander in that way."

Elsa's face lit up, lightly relieved that the words 'good' was used to describe her father. "So he was a good man?"

"Good commander, Queen Elsa. Not paragon of virtue. He whored, drank and looted as much as the rest of us. And let's not get started on what he did to the enemy."

"What did he do?"

Bauer looked a little nervous, his eyes shifting in clear discomfort. "I'd rather not say."

Elsa's demeanor changed to anger, before she demanded "What did he do!?"

The old man sighed, his shoulders slumping as discomfort washed over him. "There was this Frog fort. Was used to exert control over the area. Your dad had a grudge with the commander. Now we tricked the French dogs out into the open, where we cut down most of the garrison. But the commander escapes to the fort. Your father doesn't like that. Not one bit. So we return to the fort, and we take it without too much of a fuss. Kill the commander and the soldiers who fight, but some surrender."

Bauer paused, before drinking from a flask of some sort of grog. Elsa could tell that by the older man's facial expression, that this was an ugly, painful memory. She didn't like where this was going.

"Well, we do them in too. I was shocked but that was standard. They don't show us mercy, we show none in return. But your dad wasn't finished. There were a few locals there. Your dad ordered them locked in the food store. We think it's so they can't report, while giving them food to live off of until other French forces arrive."

Tears formed in the man's eyes, his whole body trembling with anger and shame as he finished his story.

"We… set fire to the stores. And we sat there, until the screams stopped. And the whole time, your da' just watched, blank as could be. Like he was waiting for the yule log to go out."

Both Elsa and Bauer stood in silence for an awkward moment.

"Your father was a great man to serve under. You could not ask for a more dedicated man to his troops. I would follow that man through the gates of hell. Trust me when I say that, Queen Elsa. For after _that night,_ that's where we all thought we were headed."

…

It had been a long quiet ride back to the palace, in which Elsa had plenty of time to think about her next move. Today had been earmarked for a special occasion, one that had postponed for ages until now. Back during the coronation, Elsa was informed of the surprise visit of Princess Rapunzel, their cousin. During the time she was of course anxious to avoid it due to her powers, however even now she still was eager to avoid a visit for one simple reason.

If Rapunzel hadn't been found, her parents would still be alive.

Of course Elsa didn't hold a grudge against her closest living family outside Anna and her Aunt, but it was a living reminder of her loss. She never really knew the girl anyways, and unlike Anna had never bothered to correspond via letters. Unlike for Anna, who was desperate to expand her family unit, this was just business.

In addition to the unpleasantness of dealing with her cousin, Elsa decided today would be the day Anna found out about her father's activities during the war. While she wanted to avoid dampening the spirits of today's event with their cousin, it was important to Elsa to clear the air. Every hour she delayed would increase Anna's anger at Elsa for not telling the truth, and Elsa figured it would be best to sap Anna's joy now, for it to be regained by talking to Rapunzel.

As the carriage pulled into the castle, Elsa peered out the window and spotted a clearly excited Anna barely containing herself. Knowing that she was going to meet her cousin upon Elsa's return, Anna managed to drag herself out of bed early in order to be ready to go at the earliest possible moment. Elsa felt a little guilty that such enthusiasm was to be rained on, but sometimes the truth hurts.

Elsa took a deep breath, before exiting the carriage and walking up to Anna. Having no idea of Elsa's intentions, Anna ran towards her, intending of grasping her hand. Before she could, Elsa drew back, before casting her head down.

"Elsa?" Anna asked, having grown concerned in a moment. Anna still was unaware of Elsa's intentions, but was used to Elsa's understandable mood swings and panic attacks.

"Anna we need to talk. It's about Papa."

…

Half an hour later Anna sat on a chair in mind numbing shock. She saw Elsa's mouth move and heard her voice, but she had long since blocked it out. It was all too much for her.

Arrayed around her was the evidence from the chest and elsewhere that Elsa had brought in. The black uniform. The newspapers and reports on the Freikorps and the 'tooth fairy'. The wedding bands. Even the golden teeth and crowns. And tying it together was Elsa going over in detail on all thing things he had done, from childhood memories to the witness accounts of others. It was a mountain of evidence, and it was damning. But damn it all, because it was her _father. _

He had _never _shown any action that could have hinted at the abject cruelty displayed in these accounts. Was locking Elsa away for 10 years misguided? Yes. Cruel? Not intentionally. After the great thaw, Elsa had told her that father visited Elsa with mother _every day. _He went to great lengths to both comfort her and Elsa, as well as guiding them through childhood. Even with a nation to run, Agdar attempted to make up for Elsa's absence in her life by _playing with her._

Thusly Anna's mind could simply not comprehend that the 'tooth fairy' and her loving father could be the same man. It didn't make sense. She knew all too well now that looks could be deceiving, that men like Hans existed in this world. But Hans made sense. He wore a mask for gain. But even that mask lasted only so long before true nature came out. But how could Agdar have been wearing a mask? He was kind and loving to them their whole life… Often at his own expense. How can someone so good be capable of such evil? Then a terrifying series of thoughts struck her. During both the coronation and since, she heard a recurring series of conversations.

_Princess Anna, so glad to meet you! Why, you remind me so much of Agdar when he was younger…_

_Excuse me your highness, but did anyone tell you're just like your father did before the war…_

_To King Agdar, bless 'is soul. Why Anna, you look and act a lot like he did when he was a lad. You know, before the war? More Feminine, sure. But just like 'im!_

Even Gerda had remarked more than once: "_Princess Anna sure is her father's daughter!"_

Could she… be like him?

Suddenly Anna felt ill, cradling her head in hands, rocking on the chair. Feeling nauseous, she only had time to spill out one thing. "Elsa, I think… I'm going to be sick."

"Anna?"

Anna slumped over in her chair, the nausea been strong enough to cause her to faint as she had a horrific thought of _herself _doing what Papa had done.

"ANNA!" As Guardsmen rushed into the room in response to the Queen's yells, Elsa wasted no time in organizing them. "One of you go inform Gerda and Kai that Anna has fainted! The rest of you, get Anna to the Infirmary!"

"Your Majesty!" Elsa turned to the familiar voice, somewhat pleased to see the young Guardsman who had distinguished himself during the great freeze, Corporal Eriksen. "How are we to move the Crown Princess? We'd have to destroy a table to carry her out on it!"

Elsa paused, before thinking of a solution. She tapped her emotions to summon a stretcher consisting of ice poles and the ice fabric her dress was made of. The Guardsmen still a little unused to such things paused in awe, before refocusing and moving the unconscious Princess onto the stretcher before the two Guardsmen carried out the Queen's order, leaving her alone with Corporal Eriksen. Realizing the conflict of scheduling that was about to occur, Elsa didn't waste any time.

"Corporal, go inform the Princess Rapunzel that Anna is feeling ill, and we'll have to postpone until tomorrow."

"Your Majesty, as a member of the Queen's Own, it's my duty to _protect you. _I can't simply leave you-"

"Corporal, I'm safe in my own castle. I'm willing to risk being alone for a brief period to avoid a diplomatic incident. Now go!"

Eriksen clicked his heels and bowed, before heading for the Coronan guest suite, feeling guilty but feeling he had no choice.

…

Corporal Eriksen was at attention in Sergeant Hvitstrom's office, and not in a good way. Shortly after he returned to Queen Elsa, he was ordered to report to his Commander on charges of dereliction of duty in regards to leaving Elsa alone. These events weren't rare, but they were serious business. Luckily, like most of the time these things start, there was a good reason.

"It didn't take too long after that to deliver the report, and by the time I had returned, I had found that Princess Anna had recovered, though she was confined to the infirmary on Queen's orders. And that Sergeant, is why Queen Elsa was alone when you had arrived on the scene. I had received a direct order from her Majesty, and was carrying it out."

Still looking far from pleased, Sergeant Hvitstrom stood up from his desk, placing his hands behind his back before moving around the room. "I can't say you acted wrongly, Eriksen. But I can't say you were in the right, either."

"Sergeant?"

"A common mistake many make, including the guard, is thinking that we are loyal to Queen Elsa. We are not. We… are loyal to the crown. Monarchs come and go Eriksen. We protect the position, the throne, and the crown at all costs. If heavens forbid, something where to happen, we would be expected to guard the next recipient no matter our thoughts towards them, or the previous occupant."

Eriksen shifted uncomfortably, not liking what he was hearing from his commander. He had after all accepted the position as a way of affirming loyalty to the Queen after his doubts in her during the great freeze. He didn't like this talk of non-loyalty. But he couldn't blame the man. Less than a month after joining the Queen's Own, a then Lance Corporal Hvitstrom received the blow of King Agdar's death. Perhaps he was trying to spare the Corporal any pain. Hvitstrom sighed, before finishing.

"Don't grow too attached to Queen Elsa, Corporal. Fate might steal her away from you."

…

Ever since the Grenadiers had arrived in Arendelle, there had been issues accommodating that many soldiers in what was a relatively small city. As such, while the staff scoured the city looking for places to fit NCOs and officers, the enlisted men had taken to camping in the courtyard of the Royal Castle.

While passes and leaves were being doled out by the stack in order to keep the men in good morale, as others were kept busy through work details, sooner or later the inevitable happened. Soldiers ran out of productive things to do as they sat around waiting for orders.

In other words, they got bored.

Mikael Eriksen and his comrades sat against one of the western castle walls as dinner brewed in a makeshift woodstove borrowed from one of the locals. They were cool thanks to the shade provided by the walls as the sun prepared to set in the west, despite their woolen uniforms. While in full uniform including caps, they had received permission from the Regimental Surgeon to air their feet out as much as possible. As such they lined their jackboots in the edge of their area, as the lads let their blistered and battered feet breathe.

Each soldier had their own way of passing the time. For Mikael this was writing letters, as well as his journal. Other hobbies enjoyed by the infantry was mending socks and uniforms, card games, wood carving, weapon maintenance, smoking and most of all, bullshitting.

"Hey Eriksen!" It was Karlsen, the squad's chatterbox. Coming from a family background of well-educated types, he had failed university and now found himself cut-off. He needed a job, and figured the Army would be a good way to get back. He also was not a stranger to pre-marital relations. "You know the game. Queen Elsa, Princess Anna, and Princess Rapunzel."

"No Karlsen, not with the royalty. We've talked about this." This was Lance Corporal Lundgren, the assistant Squad Leader. While the Corporal was out doing NCO business, he was expected to keep an eye on the others. It was a job he took seriously, and he didn't take foolishness lightly.

"Come on! We've done literally everybody else!"

"No, and that's final."

A brief moment of awkward silence ensued, before Mikael stopped writing his letter, looking up. He gave Karlsen a grin before slowly and deliberately announcing his intentions.

"Marry Elsa, fuck Anna, and kill Rapunzel. What can I say, I'm a patriot."

"Goddamnit Eriksen, now you know the whole squad is going to-"

"Nah, you got it all wrong Eriksen. Fuck Elsa, marry Rapunzel, and kill Anna."

"You do realize that's technically treason, right?" Lundgren said on a worried note, looking around to ensure no officers are about.

"Meh, better the spare than the heir, and not even love of country is going to stop me from getting that blonde Polish beauty!"

"Actually she's brunette now. My brother's a Royal Guardsman, he told me."

"She is? Well fuck me!"

"Not that any of us had a chance to begin with!" It was Vilgerdarsen, the joker and troublemaker. Always a little eccentric, he was capable of spinning some incredible stories and rumors. But he was extremely gifted at foraging and looting, and was an incredibly smooth talker. "I have it on very good authority that the Queen prefers the company of women, if you know what I mean. And when I say women, I mean her sister."

"There is _no way_ the queen is an incestuous lesbian!"

Vilgerdarsen shrugged his shoulders. "What I hear is what I hear, Kamerat."

"How would that even work? I mean without dicks, how would they…"

"Tribadism" At this point Lance Corporal Asgeirsen spoke up. The oldest man in the squad, he spent many years in the Merchant marine, and was easily the most experienced in matters of life.

"What the Hell is Tribadism?"

The older man put down his pipe, before holding out his two hands. Making scissors with both of his hand's index and middle fingers, he carefully explained. "Imagine that these are both women's legs."

The others listened intently, with Eriksen prodding the conversation forward. "Alright."

Asgeirsen then rotated his right hand ninety degrees, before bringing both wedged together and proceeding to mash the two 'scissors' together at the base. A collective "ah" expression swept through them all, with some even saying it. As a few of them looked at him with inquisitive looks, he decided to preempt them and state the source of this forbidden knowledge.

"Singapore is one hell of a place, fellows."

As the fellows ran scenarios in their head of Singapore, one man finally spoke. It was Jegersen. Barely literate yet highly intelligent, Jegersen was by far the best shot in the squad. Having transferred from the Gebirgsjager to go campaigning, it was fully expected he would go back. Up to this point he had been silently chewing tobacco and cleaning his rifle to perfection.

"I don't know why you are so interested in the Queen anyways. I heard she's cold as ice, so you might as well stick your dick in a snow bank. Anna is the one I'd go for. Anna is a wildcat who clearly appreciates rugged men. Just look at her and that Kristoff fellow."

Having finished his spiel, he turned to spit out a bit of tobacco juice, before carrying on with rifle cleaning.

However Vilgerdarsen poked his head back in. "I say Jegersen's right. I heard that the Queen's vagina is not exactly the most hospitable environment for your member. Think about it. All that… fluid and next thing you now, flash freeze! You could get stuck!"

Nobody said it, but everybody thought it. The image of a flash freeze, followed by them caught up in the moment and continuing the rhythm… to tragic consequences. All the men at least winced, with a few even covering their genitals in a reflex. Eager to change the subject, and acting on a thought that came up the other day, Mikael spoke up.

"Wanna know what I think? The Queen can make things out of the snow and ice right?"

"Go on."

"Well, she can make anythingout of ice. _Anything._"

Lundgren stopped what he was doing, the realization of what was said just hitting him. And like or not, his mind began to ponder. "No… she wouldn't do _that… _would she?"

Pouncing on the kill, Vilgerdarsen leaped in. "The cold never bothered her anyway, right Kamerat?"

The rest of the squad burst into idiotic laughter as Lundgren sat disturbed at the thoughts now in his head. It continued for a good moment, before dying down as an officer neared earshot. Oblivious to the dirty minds of his men, he silently passed. Another period of silence passed, as the group reengaged themselves in their hobbies. But true to nature, Karlsen popped his head back up.

"Okay. Master Bjorgman, Prince Hans, and the Duke of Weselton"

Lundgren shook his head. "Oh for fuck's sake!"

…

The sun lingered above the mountains in the west in the last moments before nightfall, casting twilight's shadow upon the land as Eva rode north along the road. Having made the trip north before, she knew that she was about to stumble across a village with a decent inn. As such while Eva kept an eagle's eye out for possible highwaymen, she was not too terribly worried about her plans.

Even though she was on a mission for the Queen, she at this point allowed her horse Kaldvind to trot down the road at a relaxed pace. While she knew the grey horse could move much faster, she had no intention of wearing her horse out. The relaxed speed allowed also to get a good look at the land giving her more time to react to potential threats.

It was when she saw the other rider that she laid her hand on her holster. She was a thin and frail woman on a horse, moving at a similar pace to hers. While she wore fairly ordinary traveling gear for women, she wore a steel mask and hood covering her entire head. As she rode closer, an overpowering smell of lady's perfume hit her, with a hint of something else that she couldn't quite grasp what it was.

Normally Eva would have discounted the lone rider as the odd leper, except for how youthfully and forcefully she carried herself on horseback. Despite all the traits that would indicate a rich, diseased old woman, this woman had a hidden strength. Eva was about to shrug it off as a curiosity when it hit her.

A sudden sense of _wrong _hit Eva, as well as her horse Kaldvind who became incredibly panicked, forcing her to calm him. She felt her heart begin to pound as her subconscious mind told her to _get away _from this woman. For her part the elderly rider rested her right hand on something as well, as her masked face turning its gaze directly at Eva. At this point she saw the eyes, bright and blue. Eva felt an odd feeling that she'd seen those eyes before somewhere, but she couldn't put her finger on it though.

The two passed each other, and before long the two riders relaxed their postures and Eva recovered from… whatever that was. As she exhaled forcefully, she paused and turned around. She didn't want to, but she felt it was her duty to at least warn the woman about the dangers ahead.

"Excuse me ma'am?"

The masked rider paused, before wheeling her horse about. Once again those vivid blue eyes fell upon her, causing the feeling of Déjà vu. The woman paused before answering in a surprisingly younger voice, though carrying a strange accent.

"Yes?"

"Not sure if you traveled this road before, but there isn't an inn for a considerable distance. And bandits do appear on these roads at night. You may want to turn back and sleep at the village tonight."

"I see. No matter, the dark never bothered me anyway. As for bandits, I can take care of myself."

Eva was impressed by the old woman's bravado, though she also considered it foolish to press he luck at night. However, it was her life to live.

"Safe journey and Thor's blessings, traveler."

The masked woman cocked her head, looking strangely at Eva, blinking quite a bit. As Eva shrugged and turned her horse back around, she was startled by a surprising "Wait!" from the other traveler. Eva looked back to see the other rider lowering her raised hand, having been shot up as a reflex when calling her.

"If you're heading north, I'd… be careful. People up there have been less than tolerant of followers of the old gods."

"Thanks for the warning. Farewell."

With that the two parted ways, both oblivious to the role the other was to play in the coming events.

…

Capital Docks, the Duchy of Weselton

It was evening when the ship finally came in, the voyage having taken a week to cover the distance back to Weselton in shame. They could have arrived earlier or offloaded faster, but the crew was acting on orders to wait until nightfall before offloading the precious cargo:

The Duke of Weselton. A _disturbed _Duke of Weselton.

Due to their prudent but low-key actions, only a few were on hand to see a still distraught Duke and his men being led onto the dock by a few Naval Officers towards the ducal palace. Most of the observers were dock workers and sailors, who had been paid off to keep "the Duke's image noble" as most were happy to comply. After all the Duke was a hero in Weselton.

One of the men who witnessed the scene wasn't a sailor or dock worker, nor had he been paid off. The man in the black suit, and overcoat had come to see his ruler come home and provide assistance if necessary. Not only that, but to see if his boy came home as well. His son was recently enlisted as a body guard to the Duke, thanks to his father's loyalty and faithful service. The boy was precious to the old man.

So when the large, mustached man stepped off the ship, the elder exhaled in relief through his greying but matching facial hair, before removing his top hat and wiping the nervous sweat off his brow. He was genuinely carefree for a moment, before approaching footsteps reminded him he had business to attend to first before he could hug his son.

The man in the lighter brown suit moved up aside of the other, before making his own observation of the Duke's current state.

"What a senile old goat, he is. He needs to hurry up and die so-"

A gold handled cane smacked painfully into his chest, cutting him off before he could make any more slander about the ruler of their small nation.

"It'd do you well to keep your mouth shut about things you don't understand, _lad._"

"No disrespect to you Mister Hawkins, but look at him! He's off his rocker!"

"He's been traumatized, and his mind does… wander at times. But this is the same man who _built _this nation from nothing. We are prosperous, wealthy, and minimally taxed. If it wasn't for him, we'd likely have crawled back to British rule. And that's not even mentioning what he did at Waterloo."

He deeply sighed, before switching from nostalgia and loyalty to the current reality. "I wish he did stand down, for his own good though. Let him enjoy the last years of his life with his family. Instead he is insistent on holding ono the reigns till he no longer can. And it's killing him. In any case, you have business you wish to discuss, Mister Johnson?"

"Yes. Our _good friends_ in London want to assist us in dealing with the Snow Queen." He sarcastically quipped. No one in Weselton liked the English, but without them their country would be in abject poverty. They escaped direct English rule only to find them a client state.

Hawkins rolled his eyes. "What kind of assistance? I'm not too fond of doing England's dirty work unless they offer _real _help."

"Well, a shipment came in today, one consisting of over _three thousand _Brown Bess muskets. Amongst over things."

"Perfect. I know a man or two in Arendelle that'd be quite glad to overthrow the current establishment. Make the arrangements of a smuggling vessel to slip into Arendelle, Johnson. I'll ensure that our friends are on hand to receive the goods. The ship needs be ready to sail tomorrow."

"Yes, Master Hawkins." With that the younger man tipped his hat and departed.

The Elder Hawkins stood quietly, pondering the situation. He was eager to resolve the Snow Queen trouble as soon as possible, for the longer she in power, the more distressed his Duke would become. And at his age, the Duke didn't need any more stress. But first things first, he needed to embrace his son.

…

Queen's Highway, Arendelle

Ásta had ultimately decided to venture through the night, though as she approached midnight according to the newfangled pocket-watch she was given, she wish she hadn't. Though she needed only a few hours of sleep to rest her brain, it was hunger that was bothering her. Just as she was about to pull over to the side of the road and go 'hunting', a rustling in the bushes around her told her that this would have to wait.

Armed men emerged from the bushes, highwaymen here to shake travelers down upon threat of death, or worse for women. The police had done a good job in reducing the numbers of these vermin over the decades since Agdar first addressed the problem, but nighttime remained a dangerous time to be traveling for most lone travelers.

"All right ye' ol' hag. Hand over yer' goods and we'll let ye' go. Don't and we'll get ugly."

A ratty looking man licked his lips as he determined that the rider was a woman. "I hope dis one fights. We hadn't had a woman in weeks now…"

"Keep it in yer pants, fool. We don't harm 'em if they cooperate. Besides, this one's clearly old, and based on that mask, diseased." Turning back to his prey, he made his ultimatum. "So wassit gonna be, pain or payment?"

Ásta looked at the half dozen men surrounding her, one or two with muskets but the rest armed with hand weapons. To most lone travelers, this would have been a near suicidal fight. But Ásta was no ordinary traveler. She looked at the horses they had, salivating at the thought of all that meat. She knew what she was, and she did not worry about what was before her. As she reached for her sword, however a thought struck her. Suddenly, she was in a different time again.

_She was older than last time, but still not quite a full grown woman. She was wearing light armor, designed for training, and armed with a wooden sword and shield. She had just ridden up to an open area, where an older warrior was waiting for her. She had met this man many times before, and had fought many a mock battle with him. Soon she would be ready for that summer's raid._

"_Ah, Lady Ásta. Good to see you again. Now dismount so we can begin training."_

"_I've been told that the Christians Nobles to the south fight on horse. Why don't we?"_

"_Simple Ásta. The Christian nobility fight on horseback to distance themselves from the fighting. They send their peasants to die so they can ride over their corpses to victory. It's cowardly. We north men are different. Everyone fights in the shieldwall, from the King, to the lowest freeman. The Valkyries judge a man by his deeds, not who his father was. We all can go to Valhalla."_

_Ásta nodded her head, fully understanding why she needed to dismount now. As she did so, the master presented a package to her. She quickly thanked the man, opening the package before being astonished by what was inside._

"_An Ulfberht!? How did you-"_

"_Your father commissioned it for you, a while back. Cost him a great deal too. That's one of the finest swords in the world, lady Ásta. Be a shield maiden worthy of it."_

And she was back in the present. She paused, wondering how long she was out. The thugs around her still stood silently, so it could not have been long. Like she did before, she followed the instructions in her flashback.

So she quietly dismounted her horse much to the joy to the highwaymen, who now thought she had submitted herself to them. As they chuckled and moved closer she quickly drew her sword, causing them to jump back, before laughing. The leader began to speak again.

"Bad move, Grandma. Boys, kill her."

As they moved in, Ásta could only smile. She looked loser at her sword, reading the runes.

_Ulfberht. _

The finest sword in the world…

She didn't know how worthy she had been in her previous life. But as far as she was concerned, she would work hard to prove herself worthy again.

Starting with the criminals before her…

…

Bit of Notes.

First of all, I do apologize for not including the long awaited Rapunzel meeting this chapter. As it stands I was nearing 6000 words, and I still had several things that needed to be written still. So I decided to push it back a chapter, for the sake of brevity and expediting speed of update. My bad.

I also apologize for thus far not participating in 'Frozen month'. Every time I get an idea and some free time, the day that I corresponds with the idea has already passed. However I do intend to get at least one story out, likely in the 'AU section' or 'Love is…'. We'll see.

Things I do not apologize for. "Joe talk." For ages now I've been meaning to include a scene that revolved entirely around the discussions Infantry soldiers have. Now I'll admit that in reality, soldiers during the Victorian era would not be so casual on the subject of sex. For the sake of my universe, mine do. Despite what the commercials would have you believe, this is the average fighting man. Once my unit participated in a game of "Fuck, Marry, Kill" that lasted over an hour while conducting the first leg of a 25 mile road march. And for some odd reason, 75 percent of the candidates were men. Why? Because we ran through the attractive women of Hollywood in the first 5 minutes. It isn't pretty, but it's truthful. By the way, if you didn't figure it out, When Eriksen said Elsa could make anything, he was referring to an ice dildo. Just putting it out there.

Secondly, Weselton. Holy fuck, does EVERYBODY hate Weselton. I have run into many stories that trivializes Hans' cold blooded attempt at murder, or rationalizes it or redeems it. Yet a non-good looking Villain becomes overwhelmed by fear and acts on it, in support of the interests of his nation's livelihood, no he's evil. I have not run into ONE story that even attempts to humanize or redeem Weselton. Despite Weselton having MUCH more redeemable qualities and a larger good side. The man that was saddened for Anna's "passing" somehow gets more shit than the man who left her to die. Ain't that a bitch? Is Weselton a "good" guy? No, he still tried to kill Elsa in the name of profit for himself and his country. Still think most like to give him more shit than he deserves, especially in comparison to Hans. He is after all, a man who in his own head was good and likely thought he was acting in the interest of everybody. So I attempt do the impossible. I want to humanize Weselton.

With that I will close this bad boy out. Be prepared for more Soldierly shenanigans, more Ásta, and finally Rapunzel.

See y'all soon hopefully,

Deuces.

Glossary.

Ulfberht- A manufacturer of Swords from roughly 800AD-1000 AD. While the maker is unknown, the swords made by the party were in a word, masterpieces. To this day, these swords are considered by many to be the finest swords _ever _made due to their flexibility, durability, and sharpness. Until recently, we didn't know how to reproduce steel of the quality in these swords, even with modern technology. These swords make katanas look like the cheap razor blades in comparison. Ásta was a VERY lucky person to have been given one.


	8. Chapter 8- Out of the Dark

July 22nd, 1840

Arendelle Dock Districts

It was well after midnight as the sailors stumbled out of the tavern, to head back to their ship. On liberty, they would have normally had simply rented a room to sleep off their intoxication. Due to the overcrowding of soldiers however, the men were forced to make their way back to the ship.

The streets had long been emptied by this hour, other than the handful of people who made the nightlife of Arendelle their livelihood. Now Arendelle was by far an upstanding town, but every town has a bad part. For the capital the dock area was that area. Looser enforcing of the laws was routine, as the Mayor and past Monarchs long ago figured that it was better to let the sailors have their fun. Otherwise they might go start trouble in decent parts of towns.

As it was, the taverns and gambling dens stayed open all night, as did both the street walkers and the brothels. For these particular sailors, sleep was a greater desire than any of the flesh and they made their way towards the ship. They would have stayed out of trouble too if it wasn't for a very unusual circumstance.

"Hi, my name is Olaf and I like warm hugs!"

The four sailors stopped abruptly, still swaying as they eyed the animated snowman before them. Their glazed red eyes wide open with shock, the sailors began to chuckle. Pointing at the snowlem, they began to comment and laugh.

"Hey, it's the fucking snowman the Queen Made!"

"Heh, I like warm hugs too Olaf! Just not when I'm wearing clothes!"

"Hey, it has some sort of cloud above it!"

"I heard that it keeps him cool!"

Without fail, the sailors stuck their hands into Olaf's flurry, and were amazed by the frosty temperature inside.

"We should have found you earlier, Olaf! We could have used you to chill drinks!"

More laughter. Olaf himself found himself chuckling, though he didn't know why. It wasn't purely from joy, as the felt a certain degree of nervousness. He was simple and naïve, but even he could feel vibes.

"Hey _Kamerater_, I got an idea…"

…

Elsa wasted no time making her way to see Anna upon waking at six in the morning, stopping only to dress and conduct morning hygiene practices. Her dressing had shifted as well, Elsa deciding that while this was hardly the time for regal clothing fit for a queen, wearing an ice dress that radiated cold was not best for Anna.

Elsa thusly decided to don a casual dress, something she had not done for a long time. A simple cotton skirt and blouse with a woolen jacket, these clothes were more in line for picnicking than ruling. But for visiting Anna, they would do.

Elsa made her way through the hallways of her castle home easy enough, thankfully without some messenger sidetracking her from her path. While they woke the Queen only for emergencies during the night, once she was up and about she was fair game. Making it to the infirmary, Elsa was surprised to find her sister awake and as always, making a fuss.

"Your highness, you really need some rest. Please stay in bed!"

"Oh relax, I only passed out!" Anna began, any trauma from yesterday's revelation seemingly absent. "Besides, I slept for like-"She paused, peering at the clock to determine what time it was. "Holy cats I was out for nearly a day! And I got up before breakfast!"

"With any hope you'll be on a normal schedule now." Elsa wryly commented, causing Anna's face to light up.

"Elsa, thank goodness you're here, now can you tell them that I'm fine?"

While Elsa did want to please her sister, she was also concerned for her sister's safety. "Nurse, is there anything wrong with her?"

"To be honest your Majesty, she's fine as I'm able to tell, but I was concerned about the stress streak."

Elsa's eyes grew wide in panic, her heart skipping a beat as she blurted out. "A stress streak! Where?"

"Left temple your majesty, less than half an inch wide."

Elsa looked over to Anna, the streak hidden but Anna looking far guiltier than she should be. Elsa's concerned look shifted to a scold, before she berated her sister.

"Anna."

Anna sighed, before parting healthy hair to reveal the same color of white streak that she carried for years after the accident. The scold became angrier, and Elsa began to sharply rebuke her sister.

"Anna! How could you try to hide something like this?"

"Because I'd knew how you would react!" Anna started defiantly. "Look, I was going to tell you, I swear! But not until tonight."

"Why?!"

"Because, Kristoff doesn't come back from the mountain 'till tonight. And he's the only one I know who knows where the… experts on my condition are."

Elsa paused for thought, actually impressed on Anna's forethought. She had been told all about the trolls after the Great Thaw, but still did not know how to reach them. And she understood that no modern science could stop or even really slow its progress. But Elsa was not happy with Anna's reckless attitude.

"Anna, that is still _incredibly _reckless of you! What if something happens to you? What if your condition gets worse?"

"Elsa, you can't worry all the time! You can't control everything!"

The argument was far from over, but a scene far more distracting tore them from their current row. A harsh Scottish accent rang out from the hallway, full of spite and anger.

"Oi! What the fuck do you ye' think yer' doing!"

"I'm walking?"

It was Olaf, completely clueless to the fact that a less than understanding man might take his words for sarcasm. And as the other party was William the Royal Custodian, who was _very_ much a less than understanding man. A soldier during Napoleon's wars, he was in an argument that left an English officer dead, William found himself a fugitive from the British Army. Before long he fell onto Prussian service, where he met and befriended their father. William never looked back.

"Don't give me lip ye' bastard! Ye know full well what ye' be doing!"

Deciding that perhaps it'd be best to intervene on Olaf's behalf, Elsa strolled out into the hallway calmly, before clearing her voice forcibly. The mad Scotsman spun to face his boss and Queen, immediately straightening his posture and adopting a more respectful tone.

"My apologies yer' Majesty, I dinnae see ye' there. But yer' snowman is dragging filth into the hallway."

"I understand William, but Olaf is my creation and I don't appreciate you yelling at him. Besides, it's only mud. I don't see what the issue is."

Before William could respond, the smell hit Elsa hard. While far from sickening, it certainly got her attention, her calm regal expression twisting to one of disbelief and surprise. She looked towards Olaf, trying to confirm what her nose already told her was true.

Olaf was yellow, and it wasn't the yellow tint of the Castle lanterns that made it so…

…

Arendelle Naval Yard

Hundreds of sailors stood in the now bright morning light, many bleary eyed from a night of shore leave. They had been woken and formed up mere minutes before, the reason why not explained. But most of the sailors knew enough to know what was coming. Before long the senior officer present arrived and put things into motion. Rear Admiral Aeksen had recently assumed command after the resignation of the previous Admiral of the Fleet and the death of Admiral Westergard. Flustered with the increased responsibilities and hardly an understanding man, the Danish-born man was hardly one to take trouble quietly. And so he got straight to the point after taking the platform.

"Good morning, _Gentlemen._ I'll cut straight to the point. _Who the fuck_ **pissed** on the Queen's snowman!?"

Sailors across the formation groaned, angry at whoever had just drew the ire of the brass. Others suppressed laughter and giggles, despite knowing where this was going. But nobody was about to sell out their comrades, come what may.

Aeksen knew this as well, deciding to not waste time. Honestly, he'd rather they didn't snitch. The Queen was angry, but she wasn't _really _looking for heads to roll. However, the Admiral decided that some sort of punishment was needed to discourage this behavior in the future.

"Fine! Since nobody wants to come forward, that makes this simple! Shore-leave is canceled for both enlisted men and officers! You fucking apes want to play fucking games? I'll play some fucking games! I'll drill you into the ground! Back to your ships!"

The sailors shuffled off both victorious and defeated at once. While they would suffer the wrath of the admiral, no one had broken either. They'd take their punishment and just make it up the next time they got shore leave again. Most of the older veterans had played this game before. They knew how win.

…

The Queen's Highway, 25 miles north of Arendelle

Inspector Falksen shook his head as he surveyed the carnage of crime scene, completely baffled as what the hell caused it. To call it a crime scene was an understatement of a high degree, no this, _this _was a massacre.

Across the Queen's highway remained the corpses of at least six men, maybe more. Getting an exact number was difficult due to the dismembered state some were in and the remarkable distance some were found from the main site. All were mutilated by what appeared to be either claw or blade marks, with some through blunt force trauma. The bloody scene was made worse by the light rain that fell in the morning, spreading the already massive amount of blood and creating bloody puddles in the road. At least it disturbed the insects and kept the flies away for the time being.

Falksen decided to wrap it all up, rallying his experts before going over the evidence one final time.

"Okay, gentlemen. What are we dealing with?"

"Okay." It was Jorgensen, his expert of the 'rogue's gallery'. Jorgensen was extremely knowledgeable of the underworld, having a solid memory and records of Arendelle's criminal population. "It wasn't easy, but I identified two of the dead. Both are known highwaymen. Based on the weapons, equipment and their initial position, I'd say that this was a stick up gone wrong."

"It can't be." It was Svensen, liason with the Customs office. "No major caravans or armed parties went up and down this road last night. According to the innkeepers, during the night only lone travelers went up and down the road. And there is no way _one _man did this."

"I concur." The Police's Surgeon concurred. "These wounds, are incompatible with human strength. One of the victims was tossed through a goddamn _tree_. And some of these blows crushed bones. I do not know where the blade like marks came from, but I'd bet claw rather than sword did this. Alrik, what do you think?"

Alrik was a seasoned mountain man hired by the police due to his extensive experience with Arendelle's wildlife. Also a seasoned tracker, he could track most game very well. So what came next was just as frustrating. "No damn animal I know did this shit. The creature has strength greater than a bear, yet has small claws, almost like that of a man's. Yet I haven't seen such savage blows from anything but a badger. As for the marks, some have to be sword blows. No creature has claws like that."

"So what, it's some kind of man-bear-badger?"

"Very Funny." Alrik paused, producing a pipe before lighting it. "In all seriousness, we could be dealing with a werewolf."

Inspector Falksen rolled his eyes. "Are you a _child_?"

"Sir, the Queen has total mastery over Ice and Snow, up to _creating life. _Do you _really_ think that a werewolf or some other creature is that far-fetched?"

Falksen sighed, his logic defeated but still not believing what he was going to say. "Your right. Whatever did this is long gone, and honestly we have no idea what did it. Send messengers out, letting them know that there's… _something_ out there that can do this. Something supernatural."

…

The two sisters ate lunch in silence, both worn out from argument and duty. Elsa was exhausted after dealing with the Navy as well as the extensive amount of magic used to clean Olaf to a pristine state. Not only that, but the running argument with Anna was hardly rest. Why couldn't Anna just understand that she only wanted what was best for her? And yet Anna hid a potentially life ending injury from her like a child hides a broken vase. Elsa still doubted that Anna fully grasped the dangers of her powers, which boggled her mind as Anna had already nearly _died _last time.

For her part, normally talkative Anna was also silent and sullen. Having spent most of the day in bed arguing for her case to be released, when she finally was granted leave it seemed like a hollow victory. The reason why was simple. Elsa had not truly taken her words to heart, instead relenting due to irritation rather than a change of heart. Every five minutes, Elsa would check the "stress shock", failing utterly in subtlety. Anna hardly had a death wish, but she also saw no reason it fretting over what couldn't be helped. It was this attitude that enabled Anna to survive the many years of solitude. Even so, in the deepest part of her conscious, a deep chill took her. If Elsa's fears were realized…

What both sisters pondered the most was the reoccurrence of the white streak of hair. Wasn't an act of true love supposed to cure Anna? If it did, why did it come back? It was a question they could not answer, not now. And even if quiet contemplation could solve the question, they would not have too much more of that.

A muffled conversation outside shook them from their thoughts, before something snapped and furious shouting erupted. Knowing a Guardsman's zealous nature could be the cause, Elsa rose and headed to the door. Being a recently installed light door it made little noise as she opened it, revealing the commotion. A Guardsman and a young noblewoman were in a yelling match, made pointless by the fact that the two were yelling in two different languages.

The Guard was speaking Norwegian, his birth language reasserting itself due to anger. While Elsa could speak the language, the man's yelling and quick talking pace made it barely possible to make out bits and pieces of the contents. As for the noblewoman, Elsa recognized the language as being Slavic in nature. However, Elsa's knowledge of the Russian language was not advanced enough for her to know _which_ Slavic language she was speaking. Never the less, she had to intervene.

Speaking to the noblewoman, she spoke plainly and forcibly. "Excuse me, miss."

The two turned and recognized the Queen with two different reactions. The noblewoman raised an angry eyebrow, before crossing her arms and stamping her foot while muttering what was likely a curse in Polish. The Guardsman on the other hand, popped to attention, giving a slight bow and an apology. "Forgive me for disturbing you, your Majesty. She was insisting that she see you right away. When I ordered her to return to her room she became angry."

"Very well, Guardsman. I'll take it from here." As he departed, Elsa just realized that she dismissed the Guardsman without _really _being in control the situation. A little too proud to ask Anna for her help, Elsa decided to take a leap of faith.

_Let's just hope she knows Russian…_

"Uh, _vy govorite po-russki_?"

The unknown noble-woman cocked an eyebrow as her face twisted in offended disbelief. Before she could respond, Anna swooped in with a verbal barrage of _something _in Slavic, apologies and explanations judging from the tone. Upon seeing the other woman loosen up, Anna asked a few questions. The woman responded with a few phrases Elsa did not understand, but one she did.

To the final question, she responded with a single word. Elsa didn't understand the question, but she understood the answer. It was a name, _her _name.

Rapunzel.

…

Elsa and Anna sat as Rapunzel sipped from a cup of hot tea that was brought in at Anna's request as a peace offering. As Rapunzel inhaled the fine aroma of the tea, Anna leaned over to Elsa and whispered quietly.

"In the future Elsa, if you don't know the language, don't guess. The Polish are not… _fond _of the Russians and certainly do not enjoy being mistaken for one."

Elsa turned red, kicking herself over an easily avoidable mistake. She thought that an honest mistake might have been forgiven, but in diplomacy they are often not. What bothered her even more was the fact that she failed to recognize her own cousin of all people. Anna didn't either, but it still made her feel like a fool.

It did help her pride that Rapunzel didn't look _anything _like the portrait sent to her after her rediscovery. Upon inspection the painting and the model shared the same facial structure, but in terms of actual appearance and bearing, they were very different. The painting depicted a young quiet woman with beautifully groomed hair, a crown and a formal dress worthy of the finest families of Europe. Her eyes conveyed an image of thoughtfulness, as well as a hint of quiet joy and belonging. Elsa received that painting days after her parents left for the last time, and she thanked God that it came when it did. Hearing the story of Rapunzel and seeing that painting and it's suggestions that a girl like her, a prisoner of isolation could one day become free, gave Elsa the hope she needed to survive during her darkest hours. After all, that's what Elsa saw when she saw that painting. Herself, only _free_.

The real Princess before her was entirely different. Her bearing was more similar to Anna's except more rough and tumble. She was bursting with energy, and moved, spoke and gestured like a peasant which made sense as Elsa thought about. After all, unlike herself or Anna she was raised by a commoner. A commoner who was a several hundred year old hag, but still a commoner. It wasn't until she was into adulthood that she even discovered she _was _royalty. And that was three years ago. Elsa was amazed that Rapunzel could even _function _in high society, let alone not make a constant fool of herself.

Rapunzel sipped her tea, before calmly setting her cup down and beginning to speak to the sisters in a calm, slow-paced German. It wasn't perfect, but for only three years of study it was damn good.

"I am sorry that I caused a scene with your guard. When I get angry I slip back into Polish."

Elsa nodded, before responding. "It is no trouble. My Guards have been on edge ever since the incident last week. I also must apologize for guessing that you may have spoken Russian."

"I should have been more understanding as well. I forget sometimes that Polish is not spoken in any court in Europe. Even my parents speak German, thanks to the Prussians. I must ask however, why has it taken so long for us to finally meet?"

"I do apologize, but I have been incredibly… busy."

"Busy?"

Anna jumped in, cutting Elsa off. She knew Elsa was about to take the blame for the matter and Anna was not about to let that happen. "Well, there was the attempted murder and coup by Prince Hans. Then she found out that her own government is trying to overthrow her through legal action while the Army needs to be reined in like wild dogs before they start shooting people on the street. Half of our allies have disowned us and the over half are trying to marry us. On top of all of this it turns out your dead Uncle Agdar may have been a war criminal. So yes, we've been _busy._"

This time is was Rapunzel who blushed and looked away for a moment. "I see. I remember how mother and father worked constantly after I returned, only for tragedy to still strike. I only hope I am blessed enough to never resolve crisis as they did. "

Anna responded with a question that Elsa already knew. "The War of the Coronan Succession?"

"Yes. I still feel guilty about it at times. So many soldiers dead over such a _stupid _reason. Sometimes I wonder if was better off staying in that tower."

"No!" Elsa shouted, startling both Anna and Rapunzel. As both pairs of eyes fell on her, Elsa felt a little embarrassed, before shaking it off and explaining herself. "Rapunzel, don't _ever_ think that it would have been better in the tower. Trust me, it's not. I know how appealing that tower must be at times. But sealing yourself away from the world is not living. It's just waiting to die."

Anna also weighed in with her own angle. "Rapunzel, because you left that tower, you found Eugene and you found your parents. You can do something now that neither I nor Elsa can EVER do again. I would do anything if it brought my parents back, no matter what Papa may have done."

Rapunzel sat speechless for a moment, before smiling. "Thank both of you. Sometimes it's nice to hear someone other than my parents or Eugene say that. I may not have had you two when it was rough for me, but if I can be here for you in your time of need, I will."

It was at that moment that Elsa noticed something odd. For a brief moment after she had thanked them, Rapunzel continued to look at them, while still smiling. It was only now, that Elsa could see the girl from the painting.

…

Ásta washed herself, making an effort to stay clean after the… mess she was in the night prior. She long since recognized the need to do this, but had not found a secluded point until she reached the Fjord. Even then she waited until nightfall to carry out bathing herself. Thanks to her abilities, she could see even in near darkness, and thus required no major light source to see what she was doing.

Upon finishing, the corpse emerged naked from the water, her withered blue flesh dripping with now unnatural water. As Ásta dried herself she felt a difference, stopping and risking exposure to light a lantern before looking into a mirror she had received from the mad Major. There was a new appearance to her face, to her joy.

Now Ásta had never been vain, but most people didn't want to look like mummified corpses either. As before, her blue eyes were still the only living thing about her face. But the rest was coming back now. She no longer was always bearing teeth as her mouth tissue and lips had returned slightly, and her skin was no longer was stretched tightly from her jawline to her cheek bones. Thinking about it, Ásta's hair was no longer falling out with a mere scratch of her head either. Hell, she just washed it and it was all there still. Still, she couldn't shake the odd feeling that she was staring into a strangers face as she looked.

Nevertheless, she stopped to think about the source of the rejuvenation, before settling on the most sensible theory- her eating habits. Every night since her awakening she had consumed a creature no smaller than a goat, the last night an entire horse, just as she intended to slay and consume one of the bandits' horses tonight as well, as soon as she finished business.

She quickly dressed, before orientating herself on the map. Tapping into her spiritual sense, it was too easy to sense and locate the Snow Queen. The young sorceress had so much power, and yet made no attempt to hide it. This made locating her as easy as finding a lit match in a dark room for the corpse. Knowing exactly where this Elsa was, Ásta tore off into the night.

…

The three cousins stood outside, each engaged in their own way. Rapunzel was busy attempting to light a floating lantern, as Anna stood on, quietly studying the contraption. Elsa for her part took a moment to breathe in the warm summer air and look at the stars. Even though the Industrial Revolution had come to her country before she was born, her father's determination to keep Arendelle itself free of big business meant that the capital's skies were still largely clear. Elsa easily spotted a large number of constellations, as star gazing was yet one of the many hobbies that kept Elsa sane after many years stuck in the castle.

"Ready!" Rapunzel chirped, pleased that the floating lantern was finally ready. She had certainly displayed her frustration early with a number of Polish curses, yet had become happy once more now that the device was ready.

The floating lantern was just one of a number of activities done today by the trio, in which the two parties learned quite a good deal about each other. On their end, Elsa and Anna found that Rapunzel was an odd mix of the two sisters. She could go from Anna's stunts and bike races to quoting passages of literature in a blink of an eye, assuming the literature was German or Polish. In short, both sisters loved spending time with her, and vice versa. Now it was late at night, and Rapunzel had come up with an idea in light of her own experience.

They would light a floating lantern, in the hope that their parents' spirits would make their way home, and as a remembrance. It was a nice idea, and both Elsa and Anna agreed to participate.

Now lit, the three grasped the lantern each making a prayer to the spirits of Agdar and Idun. Rapunzel, having never known them simply wished them peace in heaven. Anna wished desperately for them to return and reunite the family. After all, she considered her reunion with Elsa just short of a miracle. Why couldn't she have her parents back too?

Elsa was more cynical, only praying for their peace and guidance. She especially begged revelations from her father.

_Papa, please. I need help and answers. Did you do what they say you did? And if you did, why? I feel lost without you two, I wish you could light the way for me, like you both always did…_

Their prayers complete, the three released the lantern on cue and watched as it gently drifted up into the night sky. The stood in silence for well over a minute, before Anna shifted to another subject.

"Who's thirsty? 'cause Rapunzel, there's a wine you just have to try."

…

Elsa and Rapunzel had been waiting patiently ever since Anna ran off to try to find some of her favorite wine. To break up awkward silence, Rapunzel had brought up a topic that had been bothering her for quite some time.

"Elsa, you were born in December, correct?"

"December 21st, the winter Solstice, actually. Why do you ask?"

"Well if you were born in December why did you get crowned in July? I thought it was your 21st birthday you came of age."

"Well, for a number of reasons. You see, according to our laws, it is actually the 21st anniversary of one's _christening_ that one actually come of age. And took me that long to get christened for a number of reasons. Firstly, being born in winter made it difficult to spread word that I was born to begin with. As such, it wasn't until the spring until ships even set sail with the news. And being the Crown Princess, I was a major deal. So _everyone _had to come. With such slow travel time, it wasn't until July that everyone that was considered vital could make it. Plus, considerations had to be made for my then newly emerging Ice Magic. All in all it was a mess. Hence July 14th."

"I see. One other thing Elsa?"

"Yes?"

"Who is that on the walls?"

Elsa turned and looked up, seeing the figure Rapunzel was talking about. Dressed in dull colors head to toe, the figure took a moment to make out in the darkness. It was a woman, wearing well-made riding clothes, including breaches oddly enough. Even more odd was the cloak and hood, concealing her face. Elsa knew better than to panic. Anna had disappeared about twenty minutes earlier, and pranks like this where her M.O.

"Come on, Anna. You're not fooling anyone!"

The figure noticed it was spotted, and preceded to simply step of on their side of the wall, dropping over twenty feet onto cobblestone. She landed perfectly in a kneeling position, before effortless standing back up without a sound. Elsa was now less sure that this was Anna now.

"Anna?" Her voice was concerned, as she began to feel fear grip her heart.

At that moment, Anna reentered the courtyard carrying a bottle of wine. "Sorry Elsa, the servants had already went to sleep and _who is that_?"

"We thought it was you." Rapunzel responded, her accent becoming harsher as fear impeded her own speech.

"Well, that's _not _me. Elsa can you do something?!"

As Elsa raised her hands in a defensive position, the mystery woman began to step forward while chuckling. As she did so the Castle alarm was raised, as sentries began to dash down the walls with rifles. If this concerned the hooded woman, she did not show it. Elsa held her ground as Anna and Rapunzel fell in behind her, confident in her magic.

"Stay back!" Elsa shouted. "I don't want to hurt you, but if you come closer I will!"

The chuckling became laughter. In between bouts of laughter, the figure responded. "Put those away before you hurt yourself, child." Finally, the woman came into full view, revealing her face. Or to be exact, the mask covering her face. It was solid steel, and shaped into that of a woman's face, with only a slit for breathing and two holes for seeing out of. Her eyes where revealed as well, glowing with the same eerie glow Anna had seen moments before Elsa had lost her temper during the council meeting.

Closing within feet, Elsa felt she had no choice. She willed ice into being, encasing the masked woman with ice. Before she could even sigh in relief, the would-be prisoner jerked, cracking the ice before pushing through it. As the ice shattered, the woman again begun to speak.

"Come on, did you really think entrapping me was going to work? Try to actually _hurt _me. Like those two thugs at the ice palace…"

"How did you…" Elsa gasped, before refocusing. She didn't want to, but the figure was nearly within sword striking range. At this moment a stench hit them, a cross between an excessive amount of perfume and just a slightest hint of the sickly sweet smell of death. More nauseating to them was the _feel _radiating from the woman, as if there was something terribly _wrong _about her. She approached ever closer still, and her hand was starting to creep towards the sword. She had to stop her. As such she waved her hand in anger, and watched as jagged spikes spread out in a semi-circle. Two of the spikes impaled the figure, who abruptly stopped.

Elsa paused, lowering her arms in relief. Before she could relax, an unnatural chuckle rose from the intruder, before she smashed the spikes and continued forward laughing as she began to speak.

"Do you know what I am? Do you think mere pitiful spikes can end _me_? Foolish girl, you can't stop me. Now, accept your place and _kneel_ before me."

At that moment rifle shots rang out, slapping into the stone around her as the masked woman stood unflinching before the fire. Some more ran into the courtyard, sabers and rifles ready. A zealous Corporal shouted out what seemed to be common sense, but in doing so he saved the Queen.

"Protect the Royal Family!"

The woman paused, computing that the Ice Queen and the red haired girl before her were sisters. And then it struck like a ton of bricks. Elsa stood in confusion as the figure that had shrugged off impaling and rifle fire suddenly clasped her head, shrieking. Like a person on fire, she bolted for the nearest wall, plowing through a Guardsman before bolting up the wall. Her fists clawed into the solid stone, each time throwing her up further, before reaching the top. Still clutching her head in agony, she tumbled over the side. Guardsmen rushed to the location, peering over the side with lanterns only to find nothing.

With the threat still out there, the Royal Guard secured the perimeter as Captain Edvard arrived. Still partially undressed, he reported to the Queen.

"Your Majesty, what happened?"

"I don't know, Captain. I don't know."

…

Ásta stumbled into her lake-side hideout, finally free to let it all in. As such she collapsed clutching her head as tears streamed down her withered cheeks as memories flooded back into her head. She moaned and sobbed as a lifetimes worth of memories where experienced at once, and unfortunately for her, she did not live a very happy life. As such she was powerless as she re-experienced it all over again.

Dead childhood friends. Love followed by heartbreak. Plague, war and famine. Atrocities, both Pagan and Christian. Betrayal from those she loved and trusted. Watching people she once thought the world of fall so very far…

All this pain she had to endure all over again, as what made her truly Ásta was once again made whole. It lasted nearly an hour by the time it finally stopped, letting her finally rise from collapse. She still shook as if sick from spoiled food, with her bones themselves feeling feverish and aching as she rose to a crawl. She was still too weak to stand, and as a result she crawled over to the lakes edge. Reaching the water she removed her war mask, as she gazed into the water.

Before when she had seen herself there had always been a strange disconnect, one that could not be explained. With no memories and as such no real sense of self, Ásta had always felt as if she was trapped in a stranger's body. With her memories restored, that was no longer so. As she stared into the water, even with her withered and dead face, Ásta finally saw herself again. And she could see things much more clearly now.

She remembered her old life, and what had transpired. How such injustices were carried out, and how if she could do it all again, she'd know what she would have to do. The mere thought of her story filled her with rage, rage so intense it made her shake. Even the worshipers of the false Christ-god did not deserve as much hate as her new target. Her holy war against the Carpenter King and his lackeys was no longer her primary focus. Her new focus was much simpler.

The Snow Queen had to die.

…

Bit of Notes-

Another month, another chapter. This one was actually about halfway done by the end of July, when life just got very busy for a while. Unfortunately work on the next chapter of Hans' Fate has not even begun besides a basic outline, so those of you who follow that are likely to have to wait a minute.

This chapter had a number of things in it that have been due for a while, that I found difficult to write, hence why it took so long. Rapunzel being the chief among these. I had the idea of Rapunzel being Polish for a while, as the various inspirations for Corona in Tangled are located in Modern day Northern Germany and Poland, right where Prussia would have been. As such, Corona in my head-canon exists as a client state of Prussia, though it is the closest thing to an independent Polish state. While Rapunzel's family would speak the language of the court, which is German, they are ethnically Polish. And while the court might speak German, the population would certainly be Polish. As such Mother Gothel and Flynn/Eugene would have spoken Polish and Rapunzel would not have ever learned German until she was reunited. Just one of those odd things. A similar situation would be the English Royal Family and how until the First World War, they spoke German in the Palace.

Returning to my point, I found Rapunzel hard to write for due to her personality, which could be described as very fluid. As a whole, she is closer to Anna, but still displays a good deal of Elsa at times too. I rewrote her entrance seen several times before settling on the current form. I hope it seems authentic.

As for the Corpse… fun times are ahead. I've been waiting to write this scene for a while now, as it is a major indicator of things to come. Ásta has a revelation, and it's a _fun _one too. As for the plot, things are about to swing into high gear. The coming week or two will settle the fate of Arendelle, and Scandinavia as a whole. Hope you all enjoy the ride.

Glossary-

_Vy govorite po-russki?- _Do you speak Russian_?_


	9. Chapter 9- Upon this rock

**Elsa has a vision of the first Curse of the Frozen heart, hinting at its true original purpose.**

July 23rd, 1840

The Royal Palace, Arendal.

An sluggish Elsa made her way up to her royal chambers, exhausted by the night's events. It was well after midnight, having stayed awake as a precaution after the breach in the Palace security by the masked woman. She was still uneasy, but at this point her mind was demanding sleep.

The way to her room was brighter than usual, thanks to the efforts of the Royal Guards who didn't want as much as a single unlit patch of hallway after the intrusion. Not surprisingly, the number of Guards had increased yet again. Short on manpower the Guard had begun pressing new recruits, local Landwehr and Royal Grenadiers into service, as the Guardsmen were running on empty. Even yesterday she had sworn in half a dozen new Guardsmen who had been graduated early.

As she finally reached the doorway, she took the moment to greet the "Queen's Own" Guard that stood by the door, which tonight was Corporal Eriksen. Starting to overcome some of the stage fright that often came with the new Guardsmen, his response wasn't stammered for a change. She may have smiled to see a promising young soldier progress if she wasn't exhausted to the point of simply pushing her door open, kick off her shoes and collapse on her bed. She made a halfhearted attempt to undress before passing out, only succeeding in shedding her jacket.

…

_Elsa awoke, though it was only as an observer. Before long she realized that she was not in her body or home, either. She was in a great hall, much like those she had read about in the great myths and history books. To an untrained eye it appeared to be a mere feast, but Elsa recognized it as a Court right away. Advisors, courtiers and Guards milled about much like they did in Elsa's own court. The key difference to Elsa was the time period. Based on their clothes and appearance, these were the Pagan ancestors of her people._

_Shifting her eyes to her "own" body, she too was different. But in much more than just the furs and textiles of over a millennia ago. Her body was clearly larger in stature than anyone else in the hall, even the men. Her skin was a pale blue shade, much like that of the mythical ice giants. She was also clearly sitting on a throne of animal bones, stone and ice. Based on these observations she could draw the conclusion that she was an Ice Giantess, and a Queen at that. Elsa wondered if this was an ancient ancestor, and if Ice Giant heritage led to her magic. So many questions…_

_Any further questions were silenced when the large wooden doors to the hall open, as a posse of soldiers dragged a chained man into the hall, before bringing him before her. The man in clasped irons was bedraggled in every respect, with an air of self-loathing that eclipsed the even filth of the dungeon and the wounds of torture. This was a man who hated himself._

_One of the guard's bowed, before getting to business. "Your holiness, I bring before you Markus the Cold-Hearted. This man has already been found in the act of treason by your agents. As his treason was against you, you made it clear you wanted to sentence this man yourself. He awaits your judgement."_

_Elsa's body stood, as Elsa could only watch as "her" body moved and spoke. The Giantess then began to speak._

"_Markus Cold Heart, you stand convicted of the crime of treason against your Goddess and Queen, Skadi."_

_Elsa was dumbfounded. If this was an ancestor, then she was descended from Skadi herself. That is, if was anything other than a fantasy. The Goddess of the hunt continued._

"_I remember a time when I counted on you, Markus, to carry out my will in Midgard. I gave you the gift of youth when you performed great services for me. And yet, you have betrayed me and your adopted people. I have no choice but to see you pay, no matter what your past deeds may have been. What say you?"_

_The man did not lift his eyes from their casting upon the ground, as he sat in silence. Any spirit this man had once possessed had died prior to this day. Instead he sat dumbfound, much like a cow standing before the abattoir._

"_Defense noted. Markus Cold Heart, I find you guilty of treason. I sentence you to Outlawry. You are now a marked man in Thrymheimr, outside of the protection of the law. Furthermore, I curse you._

_Without warning, she immediately sent a blast of ice magic directly into his heart, causing Markus to collapse in pain and shock. As he gripped his heart, a sizeable chunk of his hair turned snow white. Skadi then calmly walked over to the collapsed traitor, explaining in calm detail what she had done while he writhed from the pain and cold._

"_Markus, I have inflicted the curse of the frozen heart upon you. Let your hair be the mark of an unloved and forsaken man. If you cannot once again find true loyalty or love, and demonstrate it with a true act, you will die a horrible painful death. And even then, should you ever cast love and loyalty out from your heart again, you will once again find ice worming its way in."_

_Turning to her Guards she ended the trial. "Men, banish this dog to Midgard. Should he ever return to Thrymheimr, kill him."_

…

Elsa's eyes opened, the dream over. Before she could truly ponder the significance of the dream, a voice rang out.

"Trust the vision, Elsa."

She knew that voice anywhere. It was her father's.

Her heart exploded into overdrive, as she immediately moved her shaking hands to light a lantern. As the whale oil wick sparked to life, she turned about looking throughout the room, hoping without hope to see her father again. Sadly, the room was empty with the exception of herself. Holding back tears, Elsa sighed and extinguished the lamp, returning to sleep.

…

Tryggvason, Northern Arendal

Surtrsen washed his face, having just finished shaving with his trusted razor. Appearances had to be perfect for today would be an important day. Personal hygiene complete, he donned his jacket and straightened out his uniform before turning to the door. As requested of his batman, all of the pagan symbols including the crocus had been replaced. Now a simple cross adorned his tunic's chest, as there was no going back from tonight. He took a deep breath.

He stepped out the door into his office, where a number of co-conspirators awaited. Ranging from Company Commanders to Corporals, they represented the leadership of the fanatical Christians in Tryggvason. Eagerly awaiting the order to go, they all knew their tasks and mission for the night. All they waited on was the word to go.

Surtrsen paused to gather thought, before speaking. "Soldiers of Christ, tonight is the night we begin our great Crusade. Tonight, we take back our country from both the heathens and the heretics. A witch sits on the throne, but the cowards in the cloth refuse to stand against her. As such we have no choice. _We_ will cleanse our nation of all of the wicked, and build a true kingdom of heaven. God wills it!"

A hearty shout was sounded in response, as they paid their respects via salutes and clicking to attention before turning to depart. For his role, Surtrsen would do very little. He had set his instruments of destruction abound, and they would do the night's killing. He would stay back and coordinate his forces as they seized the garrison and town, and kill those that had already been marked for death. Even so, he knew better to think himself above any wicked retribution. He may have well as stabbed his former Battalion Commander himself. For now, there was no going back.

The Holy Revolution had begun.

…

The Royal Palace, Arendal

Anna was never an early bird, let alone one to be woken in the middle of the night for matters regarding the state. As such it took nearly incessant prodding from the Gerda before Anna finally climbed out of bed. Not that the Royal Guard hadn't tried knocking, of course.

As such she stumbled into the small meeting room, her hair undone and still wearing her night clothes and a robe, she was greeted by her sister. While Elsa was clearly more alert than she was, Elsa still was similarly undressed. If Anna wasn't still bleary eyed, she'd have likely freaked out.

"Nice to see you awake, Anna." Elsa said calmly, as she stirred a cup of tea. A special blend with a reduced amount of caffeine, it was meant to give a monarch just enough of a pick-me-up to handle a midnight crisis, but not enough that they would not be able to go to sleep again. Elsa was quite experienced with it.

"Elsa, what's going on?"

"I don't know myself Anna. I was awoken because I was informed Kristoff had important information for us."

Anna had just propped her face down on a hand and was nodding off as she processed the information. "Kris… toff." A moment passed before the connection was made in Anna's brain, caused her to jolt awake. "Kristoff's here?! Where is he?"

"Outside. I was waiting until you were present and awake before I sent him in. Speaking of which, Gerda?"

The familiar voice of the woman that helped raised them sounded through the door. "Your Majesty?"

"Send in Master Bjorgman."

"Are you sure you don't wished to get dressed first, your Majesty?"

A valid point, but one Elsa had not deemed important, something that surprised Anna.

"I'm sure, Gerda. Send him in."

As the two waited for Kristoff to be brought in, Anna took a moment to comment on Elsa's lack of formality.

"Elsa, are you sure you don't want to get dressed first?"

"Anna, I get woken up in the middle of the night at least once a week. Lately, more so. Kristoff will not be the first man to see my nightgown, and he won't be the last. This is part of ruling."

Before Anna could respond, the door opened as Kristoff was led into the room by Sergeant Raewald. Surprisingly, a second Guardsman brought in a small boulder, which Anna and Kristoff alone knew the significance of. Or so she thought.

"Your majesty." Sergeant Raewald began with a bow. "The Royal Ice Master and Deliverer insisted he see you. But I believe he means foul play. He claims the rock is just a rock, but I have reason to suspect it's really-"

"A troll, yes Sergeant. I am well aware of the trolls and they are well aware of me. You may carry on."

"Your majesty, both myself and Captain Edvard would _prefer _if a Guardsman remained in the room when you met with… outside parties."

"Very well. Kristoff, go ahead."

Kristoff blushed, a little daunted by the fact that two very fair women, one of which he fancied, were before him in nightgowns. On top of the fact that he was still very nervous of Queen Elsa, he barely got out his piece. "Uh, Your Majesty, Grandpabbie is more the uh, speaker here."

Midsentence, Grandpabbie had unrolled, beginning his piece immediately after Kristoff finished.

"Your Majesty, I came as soon as I could. There is an aberration plaguing your land. I do not know what it is exactly, but I felt a dark and unnatural presence even from the Valley of the Living rock."

Anna raised her eyebrows, before barely raising a hand before speaking. "Aberration?"

"An unnatural creature, your Highness. Something that does not belong in this world."

"Bold words from a troll." Raewald quipped harshly, with clear disdain in his eyes. The Elder troll sighed, before responding.

"Your grievances with trolls aside, does my mere _presence _make you uneasy, Guardsman? Do you feel that there is something inherently wrong with me?"

Raewald, too proud to go back on the prejudices instilled in him as a child simply shrugged, as Pabbie finished his explanation.

"Trolls, while abnormal to humans, are natural beings. Aberrations are not. I wish I could give you more information, Your Majesty. If there was anything unusual with recent reports, I may help you there, but that is the most of what I can do."

"Actually, there is a lot we can tell you. Merely hours ago we were affronted by an unknown person that certainly was unnatural. Down to the feeling of uneasiness and revulsion you described."

"Good. Tell me everything you can."

"Very well. She appeared to be human, yet she was covered in head to toe, even her face. She appeared weak and frail, yet she had super-human strength and speed. And she had no fear of my magic, shrugging off both an icy encasement and impalement."

"A dangerous foe, your majesty. But I still cannot say for certain what it is. If there's _anything _else you can remember-"

"Wait!" It was Anna this time. "I remember, she had glowing blue eyes, but not only that. I was hard to make out, but her skin around her eyes was blue, and she wore a lot of perfume. Even then, she had the smell of death on her."

Elsa chimed back in. "That's right, she did smell slightly like death. Does that help, Grandpabbie?" She turned back to the troll, becoming disturbed that for the first time she had seen _fear_ on the troll's face. She hardly knew the Chieftain of the trolls as well as Kristoff, but she also remembered that this was also the same troll that reacted to her magic the same way a doctor reacts to a slight fever.

The Pabbie's fear worsened, as he began to mutter in ancient Norse what all else in the room assumed to be a mix of "No's" and cursing. As he carried on Anna slid back to whisper to Kristoff, having had a similar thought to Elsa. "Have you ever seen him like this?"

Kristoff shook his head, fighting hard to stifle his own fear at the thought of his adopted chief panicking. "No, I've never seen him like this. _Ever."_

Elsa was the one to finally ask the million _krone _question, the one they all wanted to hear. "Grandpabbie, what's wrong? Do you know what the creature is?"

Still shaking from fear, Grandpabbie could only get out one word. "_Draugr."_

To Anna, Elsa, and Kristoff, the word had no meaning. But to the only other folklore-versed in the room, the fear struck deep. Raewald's eyes grew to the size of saucers, as he too began to shake with fear. "Oh gods, no!"

Kristoff spoke, trying to get answers from the elder chief. "Grandpabbie, I don't understand, what's a _Draugr?"_

Instead, Raewald cut in as Grandpabbie attempted to gather his calm. "A Draugr's death, boy. Period."

Having gather words, Grandpabbie began to speak. "A Draugr… is a reanimated corpse. Someone with enough sheer will that they overcome death itself, and return to the living. Victims of great tragedies. Vengeful people who never got their revenge. Even killers who have not satisfied their bloodlust. All can become Draugrs. Unless the proper rituals are observed in burial, of course."

"So I guessing we're hoping that this Draugr isn't the sadistic killer type, right?"

Pabbie shook his head. "No, just the opposite. A blood-thirsty Draugr doesn't last long. He's too destructive, and he can be found quickly and turned. What we fear is a Draugr with a cause. While Draugr are incredibly strong, and can turn both man and beast mad with simple exposure, and nigh indestructible, their greatest strength is their cunning. They are smart. _Very _Smart."

"Then why expose itself to Queen Elsa?"

"Simply put my boy, fear. An intelligent Draugr will quickly discover it's ability to drive a person mad, and will use it as a weapon. But even Draugr need something to fuel the madness. For this Draugr, it must have sensed Queen Elsa's struggles with fear and decided to use it. What I don't understand is why it stopped."

"What?"

"No offence to the Royal Guard or Queen Elsa, but if the Draugr had wanted you dead or insane tonight, it would have succeeded. What happened to make it stop?"

"I don't know either. It was mere feet away from us when something happened. The Draugr suddenly clasped its head and screamed, before bolting out of the courtyard."

"Ah, of course! Recollection!" Raewald had surprised everyone with the outburst, before he continued. "Recollection. The primary weakness of a Draugr. A Draugr is a corpse revived and sustained with an incredibly strong but simple will. However it may encounter something that reminds it of its own life, sending it into a daze or if the memory is terrible enough, agony. That is what saved you."

"Okay, but how do you kill it?" Raewald gave off a single, sarcastic laugh, as Grandpabbie sighed.

"You can't kill a Draugr. It just cannot be done. In fact there's only two ways to get rid of a Draugr. First, you somehow bind it long enough that a turning ritual can be performed, once again sending the Draugr into a long sleep."

"And the second?"

"You let it do what it feels obligated to do, until it feels at peace. And based on the Draugr's previous attack, I doubt we can do that without courting disaster."

"What do we do then?"

"I don't know, child. Draugr are incredible dangerous, and have been the death of Kingdoms before. The only course of action open to us is to use the ancient Crystals of memories, and find out what Draugr we are even dealing with. Then we can take steps to counter its plans. Kristoff, when can we depart back to the north?"

Kristoff sighed deeply, as he pressed his hands into his face as a temporary relief of his exhaustion. "I and Sven can be ready tomorrow morning, fully rested. But if you need us to go now, I can-"

"That will not be necessary, Master Bjorgman. I am sure that this matter can wait until you and… Sven are fully rested." Elsa stated with an imperial aura, seemingly unconcerned by the impending doom that seemed to cloud the room. It was all a lie though. Every voice in her head screamed to panic and force Kristoff back to the trolls, at sword point if necessary. But that would be counterproductive. Firstly, she was the Queen. She was in charge, and nothing would panic others more than to see her doubt herself or make rash decisions. Secondly, was Anna. Anna liked this fellow, and she would be heartbroken if anything were to happen to him. So Elsa would give the Sami his best chance of a safe journey. He would leave in the morning.

"Very Well." Pabbie spoke with a tired voice, tired from both his many, many years and what had been a taxing night for him as well. "We shall leave in the morning. Your Majesty, is there anything else?"

"There is, but it's a private matter. Sergeant Raewald can you please escort Princess Anna and Master Bjorgman to their quarters?"

"Your will be done, Your Majesty." Raewald responded quickly, while clicking his heels to attention. He then set about guide both the protesting Princess and exhausted ice merchant back to their quarters, as Elsa and Pabbie sat quietly until they were gone. Once they were, Elsa wasted no time before making her inquiry.

"Grandpabbie, before you came to me tonight I had a strange dream. So strange, I believe it may have been a vision."

"I see. Have you experienced visions before?"

"No, this is the first."

"Very well. It is possible that despite not having the ability to prophesize, a spirit or deity may have sent you a message."

"A spirit?" Elsa thought of the unexplained voice she heard, the voice of her father and wondered if it really was him speaking to her. If the troll was right, he may well have been.

"Yes. Sometimes both the spirits of the natural world and that of the dead can converse with the living. Now, I can help you answer any questions you have if you would kindly describe your vision to me."

"Yes, of course." Elsa began from the very beginning of her dream and explained every detail she could remember from it. While she did, Grandpabbie listened intently, growing a pained and sad expression as Elsa went on. When she finally finished, the troll Chieftain shook his head before responding.

"I'm afraid what you saw was in fact more or less true. All the ancient legends of the past seem to indicate that the curse you inflicted upon Anna was originally used as a punishment for treason. A permanent one."

"So Anna is-"

"Yes, Anna will bear this curse until it either kills her or she dies of other causes. There is no cure. So Anna must remain loving and loyal in her heart. While it would take quite a bit to send her back to the brink of death, any straying from the true course would mean a corresponding increase in the curse. It truly was a dreadful thing."

"But it was an accident! How could something so complicated be so random?"

"That… is what pains me as I tell you the truth. There is no possible way you could have casted such a terrible curse accidently. Some part of you MUST have demanded it. You may not have made the conscious decision to do it, but your heart did."

Elsa staggered over to a chair, crashing down on it as her head went numb through sheer shock. With her head light, she shook her head in horror. "They were right. I _am_ a monster."

"Your Majesty, we're _all _monsters. The difference is that for one reason or another, you were given a powerful magic and therefore the ability to express your heart in both a wonderful and terrible way. And in my experience, there's always a greater reason."

"So what can I do?"

"Be yourself. Princess Anna is luckily naturally loyal and loving by heart. If there is one person who can endure the curse, it is her."

"But she shouldn't have to!" Elsa cried out as she slammed her fist into her chair arm, freezing well over half the chair. Realizing she was growing angry again, she took a deep breath before waving away the ice with her hand. "Before we end this, I have a question. In the vision I saw that I was the goddess Skadi. Is my family descended from her?"

"Yes, but that is a story for another time."

"Very well. We will speak in the morning."

As the troll nodded his head and left, Elsa sat with her thoughts and the realization that the demons of her own heart were responsible for her sister's suffering. First though, her mind wandered to the fact that the spirit of her father had given her the vision.

"_Mama, Papa, do you help me with these visions? Or are they punishment for my sins? I wish you were here to guide me, as I fear I will destroy your legacy. Please, help me…_

Unseen, Agdar and Idun sat helplessly as they watched their child suffer, and despite their spirits being in the same room, there was nothing they could do. While they could help in minor ways, the higher powers and made the rules quite clear to them. This was Elsa's battle, and she would have to fight it without them.

…

Kristoff entered the room, groaning from his own exhaustion as he kicked off his boots and prepared to launch himself onto the bed. Normally the mountaineering Sami would have protested about the suite he had been assigned to, as well as being separated from Sven. But in this case he was simply too tired to put up a fight.

As he shed his woolen and cotton clothes, a thought passed through his head about how fortunate it was that he had deloused his clothes back in the valley before he left. Body lice would have been horrible to deal with, and it would have been a true shame to contaminate the bedding of the suite. As tired as he was, he would not have dared to simply fall on the bed with dirty, muddy clothes. Not out of fear of punishment, but simply to avoid ruining a pure, beautiful thing as white sheets.

Finally naked, he lumbered up onto the bed and passed out, backside up.

He remained that way for close to an hour when Anna entered the room, unsuspecting of Kristoff's state off undress. She recoiled with a soft "Gah!" before realizing that her potential suitor was sleeping. Remembering a past comment from the Sami that he never wore underclothes when sleeping, she began to creep into the room to leave her gift.

In her hands was a shawl she had made months prior in one of her more bored moods, despite having no real use for it. She had worn it a number of times, but she never cared for the thing too much. But she figured Kristoff might appreciate it, even though to him it was essentially a large scarf. As such she draped the woolen cloth over the naked man before planting a quick kiss on the side of his face. She quickly turned to creep out of the room as a thought struck her. She turned back around, covering Kristoff's bare ass with one of the spare blankets before actually leaving the room. After all, as mischievous as she was, she had no wish for a maid to stumble upon Kristoff in the nude.

_No need to give poor Gerda a heart attack, after all._

…

Tryggvason, Northern Arendal

Surtrsen dismissed the messenger, before taking a glance out the window. The sun was rising over the mountains, its rays heating his bones after a fairly cool night, at least for summer. He had just been informed that the last hold-out of loyalist forces in the immediate region had been snuffed out, meaning the long night of constant dispatching of orders and troops had finally come to an end. While the ensuing accountability detail would determine whether any men escaped to warn the Witch Queen, for now he had won his first battle.

No longer bound to his command post, the would-be Regent took a deep breath as he stood up and grabbed his cap, before stepping outside to survey the results. His white drill uniform now adorned with the cross gleamed in the early morning sun as he strolled through the garrison as he took in the carnage of what he had wrought. His soldiers now where throwing the bloody bodies of their former comrades into shallow ditches, careful to keep them face up for easy identification. These grim scene combined with the smoldering remains of the fires that had started earlier that night when loyalists had not let themselves go quietly put the Major into a somber mood.

He had known that a number of these men where good Christian men whose only crime was letting their minds be warped by the vile Sorceress into defending her. He even suspected that a number would have been loyal to their cause had they been persuaded. But at this crucial stage no chances could have been given. Anyone not known to be totally on their side was purged, as even a single whisper of mutiny would have had them all hanged. So they did what was needed to be done.

Even so it was worth it. Any doubt in his mind washed away when he saw his men take down the pagan influenced flag of the Queen, and raise a new one in its place. With the Golden Cross of Arendal imposed on a sea of white, it certainly had the desired effect of symbolizing the rebirth of Christianity in this Godless land. With the stunning success here, there was no doubt now.

God was with them, as a new era dawned for Arendal.


	10. Chapter 10- I will build my Church

Tryggvason Garrison, Northern Arendal

Surtrsen was partaking in his morning outdoor prayers when the soldier approached him. One of the garrison's couriers, the young man had proven to be a good and loyal man towards the crusade. Still in his late teens, the lad's floppy blond hair, hazel eyes and light stubble made him look like a boy. It was for men like him Surtrsen hoped to build the new world.

"Your holiness."

"Yes soldier?"

"Lieutenant Bjuvsen sends his apologies, sir. Some of the heathens were able to escape last night, and are likely spreading word."

"Very well." Surtrsen paused and reflected, as his desire was to keep his insurrection quiet until the return of their holy champion, the Angel sent from God. But God was one to test his faithful. So despite the disappointment, he was not going to grow angry at what he knew to be a good officer. No, it was time to go truly public.

"Ralf, was it?"

"Yes sir?"

"Assemble the Company Commanders."

"If they ask for the reason, sir?"

"Simple. We reveal ourselves to the world today.

…

The Royal Palace, Arendal Proper

Elsa and Anna sat eating a late breakfast, as Anna had only recently awoken, despite Elsa having been awake for hours at this point. The two had eaten in silence up to this point, as Anna was still waking up and Elsa was gathering courage to tell Anna the hard truths she had learned the night before. It was Anna who started conversation though, after a glance at the clock.

"Didn't you have a meeting today?"

"I did actually, however a number of the ministers had to delay until tomorrow."

"Really?"

"Yes. Jamesen had duties that took him east, and due to a bridge collapse he had to take a longer route. He'll be coming in tonight, and will start the meeting tomorrow morning."

"Sure, but that's one guy. What about the rest?"

Elsa chuckled, before explaining. "Well, with the exception of Minister Lundgren, the rest of the opposition does not wish to start without Jamesen. Apparently they're terrified of me."

Anna rolled her eyes at the apparent cowardice of the would-be traitors. "And Lundgren, the ogre?"

"Lundgren may be a crass and vulgar man, but he's no coward. If he had to, he'd act on himself if he felt it necessary. You know he once told Papa that if he vetoed a reform bill he drafted, he'd challenge him to a duel?"

"Holy crap, what happened?"

"Well, Papa was in one of his moods and as such told Lundgren to ready his dueling pistols. Next day, Lundgren surrendered a pair of dueling pistols to the Castle Guard, and requested a Guardsman bring it to the council meeting, 'just in case'. By the end of the meeting, the bill was passed and Lundgren was promoted to his current position."

"Damn..." Anna thought for a second, before shifting to her original upbeat point. "Anyhow, you feeling confident about tomorrow then?"

"Anna, about that." Elsa paused, trying to think of the best words to say what she felt needed saying. "Anna, they… may be right. I'm not meant to rule."

"Elsa, of course you are! You are the queenliest person I know. You are also incredibly kind and considerate. If anything, you are too considerate of others."

"Anna, that's not true. I… I _hurt _you."

"Yes, but that was an accident, and I'm cured now. Right?" The last bit was less of a question, and meant as a reassurance. But it left Elsa a gap she needed.

"Anna… that's not necessarily true." Elsa struggled to tell the truth, but she needed this to be in the clear. "Grandpabbie told me something. Something terrible. The curse of the frozen heart, it cannot be cured."

Anna chuckled in a dismissive fashion, as if she had just been told the sky was green. "What are you talking about, I was thawed. I'm fine."

"Anna, it's not that simple. The initial freeze was just the first part. It's some sort of evil test. Even if someone does commit an act of true love, they are still cursed until they die. If any love leaves your heart, ice will find its way in and take its place. Which is why…" Elsa feebly gestured towards the white stress streak that prominently featured itself in Anna's otherwise strawberry blonde hair.

"Elsa, no matter what, it doesn't matter! So I can't become a bitter hateful person, it doesn't matter! It was an accident!"

"Anna, Grandpabbie said otherwise. He said that the Curse cannot have been accidental, that some part of me _must _have wanted it, or it could not have happened."

"You wanted proof of my love for you…" Anna looked puzzled and hurt for but a moment, before she regained her determined expression of understanding. "Is that so bad? Elsa, I was convinced for quite a bit that you _hated _me. If subconsciously you wanted evidence of my sibling love for you, while you were overwhelmed by emotion, then so what?"

"Anna, it nearly killed you! Hell, it actually did kill you!"

"_But you didn't mean it!" _Anna stamped her foot down in frustration, as she tried yet again to coax her still self-hating sister into actually tolerating herself. "You didn't actually decide to hurt me! It was the back of your head, the part of us where we all think terrible things that used knowledge you didn't even know you had to _test _me. So I have to be a _loving _person for the rest of my life, I can think of worse curses."

Elsa had calmed down slightly, but she was still not in an eager mood. "Anna, if the ministers do rule against me, I will not fight it. So I ask you, will you take the throne, if you must?"

"Elsa, you are the true Queen, not me. But I am the Crown Princess. If you will not rule…" Anna sighed deeply, as she hated to say what came next. "… I will do my duty and rule."

"Thank you Anna."

"But it's not going to come to that Elsa, you'll see. Now let's stop thinking of such things and go see Rapunzel again. She leaves tomorrow and I want to see her as much as possible."

…

Valley of the living rock, Arendal.

Kristoff rolled his eyes as the horsemen behind him began yet another pointless conversation to pass the time. He understood the reason why they had come along, as the Queen- Elsa, didn't like the idea of sending Kristoff off alone with a Draugr on the loose. She had played it off this morning as a mere insurance to insure that the memory crystals were reached as planned, but he had begun to piece together that the Queen was on to him. He half expected the soldiers to lead him out to a shallow ditch and 'disappear' him, but so far they had been nothing but friendly. _Too _friendly.

While he actual fond of traveling, it was because the large degree of silence he was afforded and lack of human interaction. But for the entire journey these guys had simply not shut up. He was tempted to drive an ice pick into his brain, but he at last spotted the cooking fires of the trolls and sighed in relief. It was starting to get cold up in the mountains as night fell, and Anna's scarf around his neck and his woolen clothes were only going to do so much good.

"Come on, we are almost there. Now careful, trolls are shy but are ferocious when confronted. Don't do anything stupid."

"Yes sir, but is all that smoke normal?"

"Don't worry that's just-"A closer glance at the smoke told him that his initial judgement was wrong now. He had seen those fires a thousand times, and they never produced smoke like that. These were closer to a forest fire or a house fire-

_Oh no._

He hopped off his sled in a heartbeat, readying both an ice pick and a hunting knife as the cavalrymen also dismounted in concern. While he didn't doubt their courage or ability, he also didn't want them rushing in guns blazing in-case he was wrong.

"One of you stay with the cart and Grandpabbie, the rest follow me. Keep alert but let's not charge in there. That sound reasonable fellows?"

"Of course, Master Bjorgman." The senior soldier spoke, before issuing a slew of instructions to the others to achieve the effects desired. Meanwhile Kristoff moved up the base of the hill, scanning to see if the trolls had left any nasty traps. A quick glance told him no.

He clumsily waved his hand forward as the small group climbed over the small crest that separated them and the clearing that served as the troll's commons, dodging hissing geysers as they went. It took them little time and little breath to make it to the top, but once they did their breath was taken away.

All before them the Valley was in smoke and flames, as the normally well-hidden hovels the trolls called home burned with a strange glow in the twilight. And to make matters worse, a number of trolls laid strewn about, deathly still. Blinded by anger and horror, Kristoff sprinted into the smoke.

"Bulda! Cliff!" His heart raced as he shouted for his adoptive family, while running about in desperation to find them. Just as the horrible feeling of loss began to sink in, he spotted a familiar site: Bulda's signature ruby red crystal necklace glowing in the smog. Relief overcame him as he ran forward, calling out his adopted mother's name.

He ran towards the glow smiling, but the joy faded from his lips as the glow changed height dramatically, far too high for a troll. Two blue lights appeared in the smoke, and a second later the uneasiness hit him hard. And that scared the shit out of him.

"You looking for someone, child?" The Draugr coyly remarked as she emerged from the smoke, her every word unnerving Kristoff immensely. "Well, the trolls are a bit _preoccupied _now, so I doubt they'll be of much help to you lad."

Finding anger to be his only strength, Kristoff lashed out as a way to bolster his quite tested courage. "You, YOU did all this! You killed all these people!"

"Well… yeah." She answered nonchalantly while shrugging her shoulders. "Only the ones that got in my way. After all, I'm not a _monster". _Despite having a steel mask covering her face, Kristoff could simply feel the evil, sarcastic grin the Draugr made after that last line. To that, Kristoff didn't have a response other than an expression of dismay and horror at how lightly she took all this.

"Wait…" The Draugr paused to look at Kristoff intently. An odd moment passed, before suddenly the Draugr recoiled in exaggerated surprise and pretended guilt. "Oh!" She then gestured about with both hands to the fire and corpses before she continued. "These, these were your _family!? _Well, that's just unfortunate isn't? I may have made you a double orphan!"

"How… how did you know that?"

"Eh, I can read your mind… ish. Not thoughts, but general emotional knowledge and such. Not so good on technical details or thoughts, though. Comes with the gift of madness I can bestow. But I'm sure your troll friends know all about it, not that it did them any good…"

"Why?"

"Crystals." Ásta held up the necklace of Bulda, before crushing it into dust. "Because SOMEBODY couldn't keep their stone noses out of other people's business, they hoarded secrets and knowledge. Including mine. That was their mistake. Don't want them telling you my sad sob story and discovering my weakness, do I?"

The Draugr began to pace around in a circle, cocking her head in Kristoff's direction as she continued to talk. "Now, the mistake you made is that you came here with the Queen's men. And I hate to tell you, but that means you got to die."

The hair raising rasping of a sword leaving its sheaf caused Kristoff to shake with terror, as a he cursed people for getting himself into this mess.

_If I had simply stayed out of this royal business, I probably wouldn't be about to die. Then again, I wouldn't have met Anna…_

A brief image of his fancied lady flashed in his head, only resolving his resolve to _live. _He had to see her again, no matter what. Any romantic thoughts of self-preservation were quickly interrupted though.

"You'll never see her again. All the skalds talk of the power of true love- It's all horseshit. Your desire to get laid is not going to stop my steel from going into your heart. _Trust me, I know."_

Kristoff was actually surprised by the level of sincerity of the final sentence from the undead monstrosity, as if she was genuinely trying to give life advice to the man she was about to kill. It was, however but for a moment.

"Oh, I believe your friends are trying to sneak up on me. That was a _bad call._" With a brutal burst of speed she slammed her non-sword hand into the stone, creating a burst of energy that dispelled all of the smoke and mist for 50 yards, revealing the four cavalrymen surrounding her with weapons ready. Curses and sighs of men who knew they had just been doomed.

The Draugr looked at Kristoff, emotionlessly stating her warning to him. "Don't run Sami. You'll only die tired."

Then with vicious violence of action and speed the Draugr sprang into action, as before Kristoff could blink a throwing axe flew past his head and crashed into the soldier behind him. He didn't have time to turn to see it, but based on the scream and delayed thump and rattle of gear he was certainly dead.

Now while the Draugr was fast, she wasn't too fast to not immediately receive carbine and revolver fire before she could make her next move. But while she twisted and jerked, she was in no way prevented from continuing the slaughter. She simply pivoted from her knell on the ground and propelled herself towards the next soldier, her next move telegraphed to be a downwards swing. The horse soldier tried blocking with his carbine, only for the brute strength of her attack to cleave through both the wood and steel of the weapon and the bone of his skull. Staggering and dying, the body collapsed as the Draugr drew the dying man's single action revolver and started sending lead slugs into the farthest man from her, demonstrating her understand of modern firearms quite easily.

By this point the last man alive was also the most senior, a Sergeant. Accepting his own fate but desperate to protect the VIP, he positioned himself between Kristoff and the Draugr, and shoved him away in an attempt to buy him time.

"You got to get out of here lad, or that hell spawn will kill you!"

He then took his weapon of choice out, that being a shotgun. Packed with ball bearings, he lifted and shot the spray of metal into the face of the undead horror bearing down him. But as soon as he finished, the wounded but still moving corpse was on him, driving the broad edge of her sword into his throat. The Sergeant staggered, reaching for Kristoff as arterial bleeding sprayed Kristoff from more than 10 feet away. As the Sergeant fell, Kristoff saw an opening that he instantly took.

He leapt forward and drove his ice pick into the side of her face, while driving his hunting knife into her neck, before pulling both out forcibly, in the process ripping off the war mask.

Now there was always the old adage that a mysterious monster was more frightful than a known one, and while this was true in this case, it was not by much. Her face would have been much more youthful and "alive" than Kristoff would have expected, but that was before a dozen metal balls and an ice pick was driven into it. Now her right cheek was torn with her jaw dangling, and her face was pocketed with torn flesh. But the worse was the eyes. Her physical eyes had been torn to bits, leaving a horrible bloody mess that streamed down her ripped cheeks. But two blue orbs floated freely in her eye sockets, giving the blood a purplish glow that unnerved the Ice harvester. But if the Draugr was inhibited in anyway, it was not obvious. She simply switched sword arms and jammed her own jaw bone back into its place as Kristoff witness the growing ligaments reconnect it into her head.

"You know, I've been _trying _to regain my original appearance, and you people simply are not helping. Still, you got balls, I'll give you that. I won't even eat your reindeer for that."

"His name is Sven, you know."

"Cute. Now do you want him to join your or not? I never understood you Sami."

Kristoff simply slumped his shoulders, as his weapons dangled from his hands as he saw no escape from the scenario. Maybe this was the universe's way of making sure that people like him stayed were they belonged.

_I should have known I was too lucky with Anna. After all, a commoner marrying a princess…_

"Oh, and she's above you in station too? Oh, this whole day may have been a great romantic tragedy…" She approached and with one swift motion sliced the head off of Kristoff's ice pick. Kristoff in one last attempt at survival attempt to strike with his knife and quickly regretted the move. In response the Draugr hopped back slightly and brought her sword down onto his knife hand, severing all of his fingers on his left hand, as well as the tip of his thumb.

Kristoff yelled before clenching his teeth in agony and dropping to the ground. For her part, the Draugr simply cocked her head as she looked at the wound he had sustained, before moving into finish the job. Kristoff tried to fight through the pain, as to have his last thoughts be of Anna.

_Well, I wish I had more time with you feisty pants. But I guess it wasn't in the cards for a Sami to marry the queen's sister…_

Seconds before her blade came down to end his life, the Draugr froze as a realization must have struck her. "Wait… No, it couldn't be…" She stepped quickly to Kristoff, before lifting him up effortlessly into the air. "Let me see something, child." She looked him up and down, while also sniffing somehow through her now shredded but healing nose. She stopped at his upper chest and neck, before tossing Kristoff back down to the ground as the corpse let off a guttural chortle made all the more horrible by her torn cheeks and mouth.

"Oh, ho ho ho! Can't be hurting you, now can I? That just simply won't do. I guess I'll leave you be, as after all, I got what I was coming for. Farewell, Kristoff. Do believe that we'll become acquainted a _great deal _the coming days."

With that the Draugr sheaved her sword, and simply bounded off into the smoke and falling darkness, leaving Kristoff with far more questions than answers. More than that though, a wave of relief hit him as the imminent death he was moments from facing had let him go. As he faded to black from pain, a thought struck him as exhaustion and pain took its toll for the day.

_Well feisty pants, I guess I might see you again after all…_

…

The town of Tryggvason, Northern Arendal

Surtrsen could only grin ear to ear as his soldiers marched into the town to adoring crowd, as thrown flowers mixed with the fading sunlight to create a beautiful image. Already, flags bearing simple crosses hung from the windows as the population had declared their allegiance. And young maidens gave quite a few of his soldiers a kiss as thanks for being liberated, and Surtrsen suspected that there would be more than kisses being given out tonight. While Surtrsen smiled at such thoughts, a fellow officer was less than pleased.

"Sir, I do hope the men do resist such sin and temptation from the women. It'd be a poor start for such a holy cause."

Surtrsen shook his head. "That's where I couldn't disagree with you more, Lieutenant. We are an army of Christ, not of the Bible or Old Testament. If our soldiers have Christ in their heart, then let them enjoy wine and pleasurable company as they will."

"But Sir, the whores will have a bad influence-"

"Lieutenant, I'd rather have in my company whores and beggars who have love for our Lord and Savior in their hearts than 'proper' men and women who merely pay lip service to God. It is time we follow the teachings of Christ, and not of the fucking Jews. But first, we must wipe out the threat to those teachings. After all, Christ was only put on the cross because non-believers existed to put him up there."

The Lieutenant shifted in his saddle uncomfortably, be Surtrsen patted him on the back. "No worries, we must all work to shed our prejudices."

At that moment a mounted courier rode up, saluting before frantically getting out his information. "Sir! A Battalion of Landwehr soldiers have been spotted heading towards us! They look to be headed towards the town square!"

"You are Captain Ralofsen's man aren't you?"

"Yes Sir?" The young soldier replied, unsure as to the nature of his senior commander's question.

"I see, report back to him and tell him to arrange his forces in the town center. And you." He turned to the number of couriers behind him. "Two of you report to both Lieutenant Bjuvsen and Captain Fenrirsen, and tell them to prepare their soldiers for battle. But all soldiers are to hold fire unless ordered to, or fired upon."

With that the couriers rode off to report, as Surtrsen and his aide de camp rode to the village's town square, and acted as the focal point for his infantry companies as they hurried into battle positions and the double quick. Being decently trained, the soldiers were set for a few minutes by the time the other battalion marched into the square, their troops arranged in a single column as compared to the staggered companies of the Crusader troops.

The tension was felt by all, as the enemy Battalion was clearly larger as they had not undergone a purge in the previous days, but was clearly more tired after a much longer march. Surtrsen was a little taken aback when he saw the white flag go up as the other Battalion Commander rode towards them with a single soldier bearing the aforementioned white flag of truce.

Biting the worm, Surtrsen also rode towards the center to meet the other officer with a bit of unease in his heart. Not only were his forces smaller, but he didn't like the idea of killing his fellow northerners in open battle, as he knew the bulk of these men were good Christians like him. But the Holy Revolution had to be defended. Reaching the center, he got a good look at the other Battalion Commander.

His name was Major Heinrich, and he commanded the Landwehr battalion to the north of Tryggvason that typically handled border security with Norway. A large set man with long red hair beset with a receding hair line, as well as a well-groomed beard complimenting a large squashed nose and squinted eyes, he was not someone that could be described as being a push-over.

Major Heinrich dismounted his horse, leading Surtrsen to do the same before the two approached each other. As they closed within talking distance, Heinrich began speaking.

"So, I heard you are leading a revolt against our precious Snow Queen to the south."

"I am. What of it."

"Well, if that's the case, I'm with you. But on two conditions. Firstly the men of my Battalion are off limits to your little inquisition. I do not care if one of my lowest privates has Mjolnir carved into his head, he will not be touched by your men."

Surtrsen wasn't pleased with the term, but he knew he needed support, and an army. So he'd be willing to entertain the terms, for now. Still, it seemed odd a man would fight to build a Christian state if he didn't want his soldiers to be cleansed as well.

"Secondly, the border region to the North is to be given independence, as to get us on the road to reunification with our brothers in Norway. The English stole our land and gave it to Arendal, and until that mistake is corrected, we will not rest."

Now it made sense. "And is this all of your troops?"

"No, about half of them are Arendalians, but nevertheless, they are loyal to me and their commanders. When this war is done, they'll make the decision where they wish to live."

"Very well. I see no issue with your terms. Welcome to the Holy Revolt, brother!"

Heinrich nodded, before clasping his hand with that of Surtrsen's as a hearty cheer rose from both sides of the square. Men from both Battalions broke ranks to close with their brothers to embrace and make merry, as today no Northern men would spill each other's blood. Surtrsen looked about the joyful scene about him, and hoped for but a second that it all would be like this. But he knew better.

_Sooner or later, we will make battle with the hordes of the Witch Queen. But we will prevail. After all, we must._

…

Bit of notes:

Well, here's Chapter 10 after a surprisingly brief amount of time, a mere two weeks. I need to keep this pace up!

This chapter has been floating around in my head for a while now as I wanted to do a scene that really demonstrates what Ásta can do when she pulls out that sword. Don't worry, Kristoff will be fine. Maybe pulling a little Luke Skywalker, but fine.

As always keep reading and please review.

Sincerely,

Dragunov


	11. Chapter 11- Trials

July 24th, 1840

Near the North Mountain, Arendal

Ásta had ridden all night, stopping only to consume a rabbit she had shot before the incident with the trolls. It was certainly odd, as her once intense hunger seemed to be slowing down as time had passed. To be fair she still needed to eat a massive amount, and while a rabbit would more than fill a single person for a day, she knew she would eat more later that day.

As for her lost mask she was not too concerned as she brought a spare just in case like this happened. But she chose against donning it until the morning, deciding that she would do a reassessment of her wounds when there was light to properly see, as her night vision left something to be desired in fine detail. Alas, that time had come.

Finding a nice secluded spot with plenty of the warm morning sunlight, Ásta dismounted from her horse and sat cross legged as she pulled out her mirror. She removed her bandages, wincing as she cursed the fact that the rejuvenation of her flesh meant the return of pain, at least for her outer flesh. It was odd, as all the flesh in her body was just that now: flesh. She knew that dark magic kept her alive, with her bones being hard and thick as steel and her organs just mere flesh.

For now, she was content to ponder on her "recovery" from mummification. As the last bandage was removed, even she was astonished by her healing factor. Any signs of wounds had disappear, with the exception of a nicely healed scar. Not only that, but she now could pass for human, somewhat. The unnatural glow to her eyes and the unnatural presence she emanated would still tip people off, but she now looked like an elderly woman.

As she ran her hands through her light grey hair, a single sliver of hair caught her eye, making her smile. Among all the white and grey there was a single strand of dull color to her hair, the color it had been when she died.

_Soon, very soon. I will again look like I did._

…

Dock district, Arendal proper

The docks were much emptier now as they Navy had mostly departed to once again patrol the waters of the Baltic, protecting the shipping of their countrymen from harm. So at these early hours just after the sunrise only two vessels were active, as the fishing fleet had departed before the sun even rose.

The first was the _SJCW Świt, _the small diplomatic vessel from Corona, being prepared to ferry Princess Rapunzel and her Prince-Escort Eugene back to their home back in Central Europe. As was proper, Anna and earlier Elsa had come to see them off. Elsa would have had stayed longer, but she had other business to attend to at the dock. As such, Anna was disappointed but eager to make the most of it.

"I'm sorry we are so busy with all the mess surrounding the Coronation and this Draugr-thing, I really wished I could have had more time with you and Eugene."

Rapunzel shook her head, before smiling. "Do not worry about it, Anna. I remember how crazy things were when I was found. I am more than confident that you and Elsa will beat this thing."

"I know." Anna stated a matter of factly, while keeping a brave face on. To be honest, she was scared witless at what they were facing. She was lying to herself, and Anna was schooled enough in politics to figure out that Rapunzel was bullshitting her as well. After all, she didn't have to deal with an undead monstrosity.

"Anna, if there is anything we can do to help, let us know."

"Thank you Rapunzel, for everything. Hopefully in a few months you can visit again, when things are less insane."

"I hope so too."

As the two cousins hugged, Queen Elsa was busy dealing with the passenger of the other ship, which was offloading passengers, most of which were military. The most important of which was to meet the Queen.

"Colonel Grimstad, good to finally meet you." Elsa put on a fake smile as the man before her bowed, sure to size up the man she had only heard about up to this point. If it wasn't for the fact that he was the only Colonel coming off the ship, Elsa would have had difficulty spotting him. Grimstad was the head of Arendal's Signal Corps, which also meant the Spy-Master of the country. Grimstad was therefore much more subdued than most officers Elsa had met over the years.

He had short dirty blonde hair that was just long enough to look ungroomed, and a full set of now graying stubble that obscured some scars that might have stood out otherwise. His face was rough from years of riding in all weather, though not so much that it stood out. In fact the only thing that really stood out about the man was his harsh, demanding and inquisitive green eyes that constantly darted about, looking for some possible threat.

_Ironic that the man that did everything to blend in as a spy is betrayed by his eyes, and therefore his own mind._

"Your Majesty." The Colonel briskly responded, seemingly in a hurry to get off the dock. "I understand that you have concerns about your security as of late?"

"I do Colonel. The Royal Council wishes to unseat me, and I'm concerned that if it does go against them, one of them may take _desperate _measures."

"And you don't trust the Royal Guard to do their duty?"

"It's not that I don't trust their loyalty or competence, it's that I feel that they are too _dedicated _to my safety."

"Ah, they likely wanted to have half the council shot on the spot, and you were looking for a more tempered reaction." He shifted, running possible scenarios and plans through his head for a moment. "Well, it'll take time to get a good network in place here. Once established, we'll have a much better understanding of the situation. Anything else?"

"Yes, there is. I presume you received the message regarding the Draugr?"

"Yes, your majesty. I can't help you there, but I know some folks who can."

"Good, I need that crisis dealt with immediately. I have already heard of rumors of uprising, and if we don't act quickly, I do feel things may spiral out of control."

"Of course your Majesty."

"Carry on, Colonel."

Grimstad bowed quickly, before setting off with a purpose to begin his work. Elsa only stopped to look but for a second, before putting a diplomatic smile on her face and turning to give her farewell to her cousin. It would be a long day.

…

The Royal Palace, Arendal Proper

Elsa sat down, prompting the Royal Council Members to do the same, officially beginning the meeting. The memories of the last meeting must have been fresh in their minds, as all the members of the Opposition seemed timid, with the exception of the always stoic Jamesen and confrontational Lundgren. All had put on a show, with both sides wearing Arendal green and their service medals. Anna was there too, though for her effort she had a much more diplomatic expression today than last time.

Kai, being the steward, brought up the first and only issue that had been brought up for the meeting, as much as the words angered him. "And now to deal with today's first order of business, the… _proceedings _against Queen Elsa of Arendal."

Jamesen rose, firmly shouldering the burden of being the leader of the legal overthrow of the Monarch. "I formally challenge the legal rule of Queen Elsa of Arendal on counts of desertion, attempted murder, assault and battery, destruction of both government and public property, negligence, and incompetence. As these all occurred in the first three days of her rule, my fellow Ministers and I declare her majesty to be unfit to rule using the Jarl's Revolt as a precedent. I put the motion to a vote, with a majority vote beginning impeachment procedures."

Elsa was taken aback by the sheer number of charges, but she knew better than to go into this blind. "By Arendal law I am entitled to know the nature of each and every charge against me, Minister. Please explain."

"Very well. By abandoning you subjects in time of crisis we accuse you of deserting your duties as Queen of the land. In addition, both the overall unnatural winter as well as the actions of the Snow Golem at the North Mountain warrants the charges of the attempted murder as well as assault and battery upon the citizens of Arendal. The damage inflicted on both government and private property merits the destruction charges, as does the whole crisis warrant both charges of negligence and incompetence."

"Very well, carry on Minister." _Now I know what I'm fighting against._

"As such, I put the vote into motion for the challenging of the rule of Queen Elsa. All those in favor of the proceedings, raise your hand and say aye."

Elsa's heart sunk when well over half, if not two thirds raised their hands and voted against her. Still, she fought bitterly to keep her composure.

"All against?"

A scattered few rose their hands, firmly sealing in her heart the desperation of her position. Kai once again had to be the neutral bearer of bad news.

"Very well, the motion passes, and with it, concludes our meeting for the day. All rise!"

Elsa and Anna both rose and walked out defeated, with Anna waiting until they left the room before exploding in a rage.

"What the hell was that? That's it, it's over!?"

"No, I am given a full day to plan my defense. As such we will reconvene tomorrow, and the real trial will begin."

"And how does it all work?"

"Well, each charge against me is examined, with both sides making cases for their side. Once every issue has been examined, the council votes on my overall right to rule."

"Overall right?"

"Yes, it isn't a legal trial in that they don't have to prove I did or didn't do anything. In the end, if two-thirds find me unfit to rule, by all means I am no-longer the constitutional Monarch."

"Then what?"

"Well, then I either step down or count on the army to have my back."

Anna smiled, before playfully pushing Elsa. "And you made this seem like a big deal!"

"What?"

"You made it seem like if you lost this trial you'd be arrested or overthrown! We know the Army has our back, so there's no threat to your rule!"

"Anna that is not a road I will go down. If the people find I ignored the constitution, they will revolt. And that means the Army will put it down, with rifle and bayonet. I will _not _be that ruler. _Ever." _Elsa sighed, before turning to Anna with e desperate, anxious look on her face. "Anna, I… I don't think I can win this one. Please, I need you to be ready, when the time comes."

This time it was Anna on the back foot, trying to wrap her head around the concept that she could be Queen very shortly, something she honestly never wanted. After all, there was another reason why she was so eager to transfer responsibility to Hans when Elsa disappeared. As Elsa excused herself and moved off to her room alone, Anna was left feeling very alone and afraid. It was all she could to whisper a simple plead to herself.

"_Please Elsa, don't do this to me_…"

…

Valley of the Living Rock, Arendal

Kristoff wearily opened his eyes to the sensation of movement, dazed and confused. Last thing he remembered was fighting the Draugr, losing half his hand and then blacking out. His whole body pulsed and vibrated with _something, _and things seemed brighter for some reason. He felt justified to question all of this.

_Is this all real? Am I…_

He couldn't bear to finish that thought. It couldn't be that he… died, could it? After all, he only lost a few fingers, how could something that trivial kill him?

Blurry movement revealed a figure, one so familiar, to the Sami. As it closed in to check him, the figure focused in to reveal someone that Kristoff thought dead.

Bulda leaned in, smiling to see her adopted son recovering from the devastating blow that he received fighting that… _thing. _After the corpse had left the scene, she and the other trolls that survived returned to recover what they could and help those who had run afoul of the monster.

At first she was relieved to see Kristoff to be relatively unharmed, but when he wouldn't wake panic set in. It was then that Grandpabbie joined them with the last surviving Human soldier, and Grandpabbie's suspicions were quickly confirmed. It had turned out that the sword used by the Draugr was "blessed" with magic to sap strength and stamina from its victims. Her father seemed unusually worried about that revelation, even after he declared that Kristoff was certainly going to live. He knew something, but it was not the time for that now. Now she had to attend to her boy. She has used her own healing powers to help his recovery, but she knew that maternal care had a magic all of its own.

"Kristoff, can you hear me?" The troll whispered to her son, breath abated.

"Bulda… but you died… am I dead?"

"No… you'll be okay."

Still exhausted and his exhausted mind happy to accept the voice of his mother as truth, Kristoff lapsed back into the deep sleep of recovery. Bulda was happy to let her son sleep, for she had plenty of her own work to deal with. Sven had done a good job pulling the sled that housed wounded trolls and Kristoff, but that was just one part of their problems. With their whole village in flames, the trolls had no choice but to leave their ancestral homeland and travel north, a dangerous journey for such a large group of people.

It also didn't help that her father spent more and more time dealing with "spiritual matters" than dealing with the practical issues at hand, something that honestly infuriated Bulda. After all, they had all lost someone when the Draugr came. For herself it was Cliff, her husband. By all accounts she should have been grieving, but there was simply no time for that now.

_Don't worry Cliff, I'll keep him safe. Even if it means joining up with you sooner than I would have liked._

"Ma'am?" It was Nilo, the young human soldier left to guard Grandpabbie when the others went to confront the Draugr. By sheer luck, he had survived the battle that killed all of his fellows. Lost and seeking direction, he was more than happy to act as the lead element for the troll convoy as they moved onward.

"What is it?"

"There's a lone rider, blocking our path. She's female, I think."

Bulda's blood froze, as she realized that Nilo had not seen the Draugr, and would not recognize her if he saw her. She moved as fast as her troll body allowed her, making the small turn round the rock face that hid the troll refugee column. She was so relieved then when she saw that instead of the hooded terror that took so many mere hours before, there sat a rather butch looking woman, wearing men's outdoors clothes and a broad rimmed slouch hat. Pulling her kerchief down, the stranger tilted her head and began to speak.

"Ah, the trolls. I figured you'd evacuate. But you seem to be going the wrong way."

Bulda placed her hands on her hips, a little cross that a stranger was backseat driving. "I assure you, we know where we are going."

The rider shrugged. "Doubt it. Up there is the North, and in case you haven't heard, well, there's a bit of a crisis going on up there."

"What type of crisis?"

With a look and voice that dripped with foreboding dread, she spoke a single word that encapsulated all the terrible things she had witnessed the last few days. "Revolution."

…

Bit of Notes:

As some of you know I am stationed at Fort Hood, and regarding recent events, yes I am fine. Nobody I know was involved in the helicopter crash, so that's that.

Glad I managed to get this out before Thanksgiving, so here's a bit of a treat for you all. Hopefully my current pace of writing continues till the completion of the story. Other than that, that's all folks.

-Dragunov


	12. Chapter 12- The Work of God's Faithful

Two days prior

July 23rd, 1840

Tryggvason, Northern Arendal

Surtrsen's army was reveling in the spoils of war, with all its crudeness. The brothels were working overtime, as were the inns and taverns. Soldiers wandered the streets in packs, destroying any property they thought to have belonged to non-Christians. And more than one bystander had been roughed up due to having a "Jew nose", or some other "identifying mark." As such, it wasn't long before the local pastor was handing out passes to his flock, to be presented if confronted by a soldier. Looting was naturally being carried out, though it was far more directed at the vacant properties of the non-protestant population who had wisely abandoned the town when the details of the mutiny had reached them. In all it was a normal conquering army. Or so it seemed.

Surtrsen stood before around 100 men, hand-picked men chosen for their well-known and documented faith. Some were Soldiers, some locals. All had also been known as being tough, brave and resilient men. They would need to be, Surtrsen thought.

"What we will do in the coming weeks… we will not be loved for. But it is work that needs doing if we are to build a better world. A world were the actual tenets of Christ can be practiced, a _perfect_ world."

Surtrsen went down the rank, not being too surprised to see Ralf as one of the volunteers for the special unit. He'd rather see him stay out of the mess, as he always saw the young man as the bright future of the rebirth of true Christianity. But this was Ralf's choice.

"You know what must be done. We must be harsh now, to spare future generations anguish, so they can be soft. Those unwilling to accept Christ in their hearts must be swept aside, to make room for future generations. We cannot fail. The first will be the Sami village to the south, gentlemen. We will strike at dawn."

…

July 24th, 1840

Ulfberg, Northern Arendal

The village of Ulfberg was a quiet village situated well beyond the North Mountain, and was one of the larger Sami villages in Arendal, which seemed odd to many people. After all the land was poor and the winters were unforgiving. To make matters worse, the literal translation of Ulfberg- Wolf Mountain- was quite true. Sami shepherds struggled year round to keep the wolves from killing their beloved reindeer, and many simply turned to ice-harvesting to make ends meet. They weren't the biggest supplier of ice, not even amongst the Sami. But the persevered no matter what befell them. The village had a saying, one that summed up their existence. "In the shadow of the wolves you will find the strongest and warmest hearts."

July 24th was not an unusual morning to any onlookers who awoke early enough that summer morning. The chilly mountain air surrounded the village in mist when the horsemen quiet rode up in the grey light of the early morning. Leading them was not Surtrsen but the man handpicked to lead the small force.

Captain Hrym was a very different man the Surtrsen, mostly in temperament. As Surtrsen was always an outgoing and slightly mad personality that drew men into his ramblings, whereas Hrym had always been a quiet boy and later man. Never caused trouble, his only troubling incident being when his dog developed rabies, the young boy was adamant that he'd be the one to shoot him. From there the boy grew obsessed with mercy killings, both for animals and people. Prior to his schooling he worked at an abattoir, where he happily shot hundreds of cows in preparation for slaughter.

His friends and family thought much of this odd, but they as well as his future fiancé never saw Hrym as being cruel. He hated it when his friends went fox hunting, as he thought the fox's final moments of being torn to pieces by hounds as savage. No, a _true _hunter would deliver a perfect, painless shot. And if euthanasia was legal, he would have gladly followed his mother's advice and become a doctor. Once again, his disgust being that the Hippocratic Oath forced him to keep a patient alive no matter the pain and indignity suffered by them. It was torture in his eyes, a true man of conscience would let a dying man take his own life in a quiet, painless and dignified manner.

And thus he became a soldier. Up to the mutiny Hrym was an average, model officer, his only quirk being that while he opposed a number of death sentences, when it came time to carry out the firing squad, he always volunteered to be the officer in command. Which meant that if the firing party failed to outright kill the condemned man, it was his duty to deliver the coup de grace. And when he did, it was always painless.

Even to look upon Hrym, one would not take him to be a fanatic. He kept a clean appearance, with an unnerving calm about him. No matter was going on, he was always calm about it. Even as his men surrounded him to carry out the dreadful task entrusted them, his glazed blue eyes showed no emotion as he calmly gave the orders for what was to be down.

"Go door to door, and calmly round them all up. Tell them to gather near the village center. There is to be no shooting unless to defend yourself or to stop escapees. If they ask why we are gathering them up, it's merely for registration for future labor programs, emphasize that without reporting in, residents will not be subject to future Christian charity from the state. Am I understood?"

The horsemen nodded and affirmed back, before quietly dismounting preparing to carry out their duties. They all felt unease, but that's why they were picked. They were the best, and it would take courage to do what they needed to do.

…

Ralf and his comrades marched through the street among the Sami folk as if nothing were wrong. He was surprised at how willingly the town's people came when ordered to do so. He guessed that the offer of charity to these people and the non-threatening posture of his fellow soldiers convinced them that there was no danger. For Ralf, all he could do was keep a polite, if nervous smile on his face while trying to avoid looking any of these people in the eye. For other fellows in the Company, they took the act to the next stage. A few passed out treats and candies to the locals, while others like Bern got even friendlier. Bern was a bear of a man, large and hairy but had always had a soft spot for children, especially his own. As such, Ralf was a little dismayed to see the man carrying two small boys, one giggling as he dangled like a carried carpet as the other whispered back and forth with the friendly bear man. From the looks of it, he was exchanging jokes with the boy.

As such, the gathering of the small village population went rather smoothly and quickly, with their Captain getting ready to address the people of the village as the company cooks prepared a breakfast for all.

"People of Ulfberg, Good Morning. My name is Captain Hrym, and I am the commander of the special detachment before you. We have been dispatched by the revolutionary government to ensure that the Sami people are not left behind as we transition towards the future. As we expect a significant amount of upheaval in the coming days. Rationing will unfortunately be required, and your goods will be appropriated for the war effort. But your cooperation has not gone unnoticed. On my honor as an officer, I will do what I can to ensure you are rewarded for your obedience." The good Captain turned and spoke directly to the large assembly of ice harvesters, which represented most of the working age men of the village. Smiling coldly, he addressed them as well.

"Now, to ensure the safety of your ice miners, it will be necessary for my soldiers to accompany them out to the lake, so it can be surveyed so we can build defenses and towers to ward off any loyalist raiding parties. The rest of the people are to stay here and be registered. Those who register will receive rations deserving of a cooperative populace."

The ice harvesters looked about themselves, unsure about being separated from their families while soldiers were in the town. At the same time, it wasn't like they had a choice in the matter. They didn't like it, but it could be worse. They had been raised on stories of how brutal King Agdar's father was, with his soldiers brutalizing the Sami people. This was far from brutalizing. War never brought out the best of circumstances, but these Christian soldiers were trying their best. As such, they picked up their equipment and marched out towards the lake with their soldier escort. They never saw the bundles of rope in the covered cart that went out with them.

…

An uneasy hour or two passed for the women, elderly and children of the town when at last the cooks declared that breakfast was ready. They had all registered with the Christian clerks, when the soldiers called for the families to line up in orderly fashion and receive a meal from the army cooks. The previously relaxed soldiers became much more wound up and hurried, with the food line becoming a near gauntlet as orders were shouted as the food was slopped into the bowls, and when finished the people where directed into one of three large wooden buildings to sit down and eat their breakfast. It all happened so fast, the confused people had little choice but to go along with it. As the last of the people were directed into the slightly crowded buildings, they oddly saw the soldiers breaking out casks of what appeared to be tar.

…

Eva crept through the woods, having left her horse a little bit behind in a concealed spot. Earlier that morning she had scouted the outskirts of Tryggvason, and noted the rebel activity in the area. Being a good scout, she would have rode south to warn the Queen but she encountered a number of loyalists who had deserted this Surtrsen's army. Taking charge, she directed them to report in her stead with a written description of the circumstances. She still felt uneasy and intended to ride back tonight, but she wanted to get in some last minute recon while she still could.

She intended to use the local Sami as an information source, as they had little reason to trust a rogue army more that the beloved Queen. The plan was simple, get in, ask a few questions to a few of her trusted contacts, and get out. She naturally had a number of contingency plans and escape routes, as she had spent plenty of time up here when she was in the Jagers. But nothing could prepare her for what she was to encounter.

She carefully scaled the small wooded crest, the local lake coming into view as she quickly moved behind cover onto a knee. But as she did, she caught a glance of something. As she took in a better look in the late afternoon's fading light, there was nothing she could do but stand up and stare in horror. Her rifle slipped out of her hand, and her mouth was agape even though she could not mutter a sound.

It was the trees.

_By the gods…_

It was the goddamned trees.

Lining the shore of the lake, from the branches of more trees than Eva could quickly count, hung dozens of men, silently swinging in the summer breeze. All appeared to be Sami ice harvesters, many with their tools hanging from their belts and work gloves still on. For minutes all she could do but stare at this atrocity, which defied reason. The Sami were a peaceful, non-rebellious people. They would have not have seriously resisted any rebellion until they themselves were threatened. So why did this happen?

As she tried to comprehend this, another omen of horror came into view. She saw smoke rising in the direction of Ulfberg. Her legs shook with sickness as she realized what had likely happened, as she rose and raced back to where she kept the horse hidden. Even though she knew what she was going to find, Eva had to know. She _had _to see it.

…

She arrived at the village, dismayed at what she saw. The fires had long since consumed the village, but as she walked through the ruins, it defied explanation. There was no bodies. Anywhere. No sign of looting either. As she walked about, she for the life of her could not see any real sign of violence other than the burning buildings.

It made no sense. If the rebels wanted to loot and pillage, that was one thing. That's what invading armies did. But here, as she walked about, she could see valuable lying untouched in the smoldering ruins of houses. Burnt silver untouched. It made no sense. She carefully entered on of the charred building, baffled by what lay before.

So baffled that she nearly didn't hear the footsteps behind her, but even with all this carnage, she was not one to be ambushed. She spun about, her rifle flying to the high ready as she got a look at her would be attacker.

Instead of a Rebel soldier, it was a Sami before her, a young woman holding an old hunting rifle. Physically, she could not have been more than thirty, but her eyes had aged to that of an old woman. If she had seen what happened here as it was carried out, she could hardly be blamed. As both party's remained in a tense standoff, the woman briskly asked the first question.

"Who are you? Why are you here?"

"My name is Eva Holstadt. I was sent north by the Queen's orders. Do you know what happened here?"

The woman struggled with clearly painful memories, before trying describe the horrors of what she saw.

"Let's start from the beginning. My name is Nina. The Christian soldiers came this morning and they rounded everybody up. I was mushroom hunting with my daughter when I saw them enter the town, and my gut told me to wait until they were gone."

Nina paused, swallowing hard as she felt her face flush again signaling another sobbing on its way. "My Parents… and my Sisters… they were still in town…" She cast her eyes aside, holding back tears as she continued. "Then they counted them, gave them food, and then they… they…"

Eva knew the answer to the question, but she still couldn't believe it. She needed to hear it said.

"Nina, what did they do?"

"They… killed everyone." By now Nina was sobbing, as Eva saw a young Sami girl emerge from hiding, likely distressed that her mother was crying as she was. Eva didn't want to further hurt the Sami, but there was Questions that needed answering.

"Nina, where are the bodies? We need to know so when can use it as evidence. To get justice."

Nina simply looked up at Eva, and quietly whispered. "You're standing on them."

Eva looked down at the smoldering, ashy remains of a building she had entered earlier. To her horror, she began to make out charred metal objects, such as belt buckles, jewelry, and hobnails. And she realized that some of the burnt wood and ceramic was not what she thought it was. A wave of nausea hit Eva as she tumbled outside, collapsing on her rear as she began to shake with sickness. Nina began to explain what had happened, pausing to sob here and there.

"They didn't shoot them… they just… locked them in there and set the buildings on fire. Anyone who tried to get out was shot. Nobody got out…" Nina sat down next to Eva, her mind numbing to near blankness as she herself struggled to come to terms with the life-crushing damage inflicted upon her mind and soul. "Nobody…"

The two women spontaneously embraced each other in a gentle yet strong clasp, as the two drew strength from each other. Nina needed a shoulder to cry on, and Eva needed something to remind her that the world wasn't an evil cold place. Neither were sure how long they embraced, but it seemed like an eternity as they were joined by others. First Nina's daughter did what came natural and embraced her mother, as could be expected. But slowly, figures emerged, pale as ghosts from both shock and falling ash and made themselves felt. Villagers who for whatever reason had not been in town that morning, who had come back only to see their world shattered. But despite it all, the survivors only found it natural to embrace their neighbors, all previous petty feuds destroyed and disputes quashed as people reached out to any recognized soul in the horrid face of death.

Hrym's Company thought it had destroyed Ulfberg and its people. In many ways, they succeeded. They destroyed the buildings and they killed the people.

But they failed to destroy Ulfberg's soul.

…

Bit of notes-

I fully admit I wasn't going to go in this direction when I finished the previous chapter, with the general thought of what happened coming upon me in a flash of inspiration that had me up to 2 AM on Monday morning. Now many of you will point to the Patriot as my inspiration, which despite having seen the Patriot, it was not so.

There's a little known Belarusian film from the Soviet era called Come and See.

It makes Schindler's list look positively optimistic.

I don't want to talk too much about the movie, but if you've seen it, you know what I'm talking about.

I don't consider myself a good enough of a writer to actually portray the actual massacres listed above, and I thusly committed to a framing story, while trying to keep this from getting too heavy. It's a crazy world we live in people. This has happened, is happening, and will happen again. Sorry to break it to you.

I will be in the field until Sunday, so I apologize in advance for not getting back to you all. As always keep reading, and keep reviewing. Think I'm a callous asshole for incorporating atrocities into the Frozen universe? Let me know.

Sincerely,

Dragunov


	13. Chapter 13- Clouds gather

July 25th, 1840

Tryggvason, Northern Arendal

Surtrsen overlooked a map of possible routes south when the door to his war room swung open, bringing with it a _very _displeased Captain Hrym. Considering he had never really seen the man angry, displeasure was a big deal. Walking over to the desk and ignoring all courtesies, the Captain threw a can of rat poison onto the table. In a loud voice, the Captain demanded some answers.

"What is this_, Sir?!"_

"Well, it's obviously rat poison, Captain."

"Yes, Rat Poison. Not Laudanum, not codeine, nor morphine. Rat Poison. You promised me that I'd be given the materiel to dispose of the foreign populations _humanely. Painlessly. _It was bad enough that I had to hang the male population due to the scant amount you gave me for Ulfberg. Now you want me to send women and little children into convulsive spasms as they choke to death!"

Surtrsen stood up, straightening his uniform before speaking. "First of all, _Captain, _all efforts to dispose of the heathens are secondary to the main effort. We will be marching south soon, and we will need every teaspoon of pain killers for our wounded. Even Now I regret giving up the amount of Laudanum for Ulfberg. Secondly, I find it suspicious that you are concerned so much for the peoples you are charged with destroying."

"Sir, I am concerned because I am a civilized man. If these people must be removed to bring on a bright future for our people, I feel that it should be treated as a mass Euthanasia. You don't feed an old man rat poison to gently ease his passing!"

Surtrsen nodded, before turning in a way that his back was turned to the cold Captain. "I figured you felt as much. You are a good officer, Hrym. But I feel your morals hinder you from doing the work that needs to be done. As such I am pulling you and your company from the Special duty and reassigning you to the main army."

"And who will take my place, Sir?"

"I do not know, Captain. For now I am ceasing all further raids, until I come up with a better solution. You are dismissed, Captain."

As the young officers snapped to attention and left, Surtrsen pondered once again if he had crossed a line that should not have been crossed. He kept having a horrible sinking feeling that he had unleashed something that should not have been loosed. The only thing he knew for certain was he wished that the Angel sent from God would return and guide him what to do next.

…

Ásta slipped by the soldiers effortlessly, as no-one suspected the frail old woman wearing the hooded cloak of being anything but that. She was making her way to the Garrison Headquarters to link up with Surtrsen and once again manipulate her puppet, when she heard an odd conversation from an alley entrance.

Two rebel soldiers were posted near an alley way for some reason or another, and as normal they were passing the time through idle talk. Mundane topics for them, groundbreaking for the corpse.

"I don't get why we don't just run the fucking micks out of town. Catholics are just as bad as Pagans, in my book."

"I don't know either. Apparently Surtrsen wants all Christians to unite or some shit. Poor sod doesn't know the fucking Papists are loyal only to Rome."

"Yeah, I know."

Ásta paused, as it dawned on her that she made a serious error with her plans. Up to this point she had worked under the assumption that there was ONE Christianity, therefore one evil to heap the blame for the monstrosities of Crusade under. But if there was more than one…

No, she could not let one subsect drive people to another through hate and terror. All of Christianity had to be equally evil in the eyes of the people of Arendal. If these men were telling the truth, the Surtrsen was already on the right path. He and the Christians only needed the right push. But for now, she needed information to avoid any more error.

As such she flushed madness into the minds of the two guards, enough to convince them that she was a young and beautiful woman, with a rosary about her neck. She brushed past them into the alley, ready to let them make the next move.

"Hey, _you." _One called out, with the eyes of a predator. "How about we promote some interfaith relations?"

Ásta smiled as she took off the steel mask, feeling her skin sink in as she prepared to unleash her true form upon them. While her power didn't depend on it like a vampire's did, she did like the shock value of it all. After all, it's not every day you get torn to pieces by a corpse. They may have gotten a chance to run, if it wasn't for the fact her back was turned.

_I wonder what man tastes like…_

…

Coastal Wilderness, Arendal

Monsieur Jacob Durant always saw himself as a revolutionary of the highest caliber that was still putting in the good fight against the bourgeoisie and nobility in an attempt to bring republicanism back to life in France. In reality he was an anarchist smuggler and arms dealer. That wasn't to say that a few decades back the old man wasn't a genuine supporter of the French revolution. But decades of war and exile had a funny way of changing a man. Now incapable of returning to his beloved France, along with most of Europe due to the death sentence conviction in absentia, Jacob now made a living in the cracks of Europe peddling illicit good to "revolutionaries". He didn't like dealing with Governments, and for the most part he didn't. But as he found it harder and harder to do business he found himself making exceptions.

Weselton was one such exception. He admired their success in revolting against the English Crown in the spirit of the Americans, as well as their surprisingly liberal legal code. Their war against Napoleon and France, as well as the fact that they were still led by a Duke did not endear him as much. Still, he looked the other way when they offered a job as long as he could warp the mission into somehow being "In the Spirit of the Revolution."

So when he saw the merchant ship giving him the familiar lantern code he gave to signify contact, he cautiously returned the signal and hid to ensure that it was a contact meeting him, not a party of marines. It didn't take long before the shore party approached, with the normally light number of members typical of these meetings. So Durant stepped down to meet them.

Durant was confident, as years on the job did a lot to calm the nerves. Besides he had a few men paid to cover his back with rifles.

Durant was a little surprised to see an unknown man instead of the contact he had come to know, but didn't let it bother him. He casually looked the young man up and down and quickly deduced that the young man was very new at this."

"Mister Durant, I assume?"

"_Ou_i. What happened to _Monsieur _Hawkins?"

"Oh, uh, Mister Hawkins was promoted since his last dealing with you. He sends his regards."

"I see. So, what can I do for Weselton today?"

"Well, to do what you do best. Kick start a revolution."

"No no, I don't start a revolution, I merely give the oppressed peoples the tools they need to prevail."

"Right. Well, we have the tools. What we need you to do is… redistribute the wealth."

Durant chuckled. He was familiar with this sort of work. While he knew it was merely another state trying to instill chaos in the land of their foe, it was his favorite type of work. Weselton had done it before, but never too big which was a shame. 50 Muskets here, a cannon there, enough to stir things up, but never enough to overthrow the government.

"What do you have for me?"

"Well Mister Durant, what can you do with 3000 muskets?"

Durant nearly had a heart attack.

…

Ducal Palace, Weselton

Mister Hawkins once again thanked the brutal discipline of the Army as he stoically stood as the good Duke was going through one of his rants. And while the Duke was very good at raging, he was nothing compared to the Corporals and Sergeants that had raised him up in the Weseltonian Army.

"IN WHAT WORLD, IS ENNACTING REGIME CHANGE A CASUAL DECISION, HAWKINS!"

Ah, Initiative. It either did wonders for one's career, or horrors for it. Thinking back on it, he was a little brash in assuming that the Duke would be fine with such bold steps. But if the Duke was as eager to repay Arendal for its treachery as he thought, well then he would have been singing nothing but praises.

"It was Whitehall's directive, sir."

The one nice thing of being in Weselton was while it had nobility, they weren't as anal when it came to proper addressing. Hence referring to the Duke as 'Sir" was not what made him nearly explode.

"I DON"T KNOW IF YOU HADN'T NOTICED HAWKINS, BUT WE DECLARED INDEPENDENCE FROM ENGLAND OVER 60 YEARS AGO! DO YOU SEE A UNION JACK ON THAT FLAGPOLE OUTSIDE!?"

"No sir."

"I didn't think so!" The Duke paced around, catching his breath and calming himself down to a reasonable state. Luckily for Weselton, he was on one of his good days when the dementia was absent and he was his usual cunning and reasonable self. As such he began to calm dictate his position on Arendal.

"While we are of course _careful _to… _consider _Whitehall's requests, in this case Whitehall can go to hell. We are handling Arendal and Queen Elsa _our _way."

"What do you need to happen, sir?"

"Firstly, cease any further action against Arendal, covert or otherwise. Cover our tracks, _by any means. _We will at once open every diplomatic channel we have access to, and build our case against Queen Elsa. We must have the entire world united against her."

Sir that will be quite difficult. Firstly, the acts of your two bodyguards, my son included. Secondly, the diplomats who attended the coronation are currently singing nothing but praises of her. And they've had almost 2 week head start."

"Yes, but we have a trump card. Fear. Queen Elsa's sorcery changes things. Many countries will not like that one bit. And while the smattering of diplomats friendly to her are trying to paint a pretty picture, all we have to point out is how powerful the new Queen is."

"Your plan sir?"

"Simple, cower in fear."

Hawkins tilted his head in confusion. "Sir?"

"Make it quite clear that we are _powerless _against the dangerous Queen Elsa's ice magic. Even with our fleet and Army, that we don't stand a chance of how powerful she is _alone. _Put in the press and diplomatic communiques. Not only that, but express how worried we are if she were to marry or ally with certain countries. Use what evidence we can. Tell the Prussians that she was pleased with the French emissaries' actions and would like to repay the French likewise. Tell the French we are worried about her historic closeness with the Prussians. This sort of thing."

Hawkins nodded, pleased to see the Duke of a decade ago returning to form. Sadly, he figured that the next day might see the duke returned to a quivering mess. Thus came the more difficult part of being the Duke's right hand man.

"Sir, what do you wish for me to do to ensure these long term plans remain secure from… day to day obstructions?"

The Duke gave him a cold hard glare down his bespectacled nose, one that Hawkins could have sworn could curdle milk. After a lengthy moment, the Duke sighed.

"You really do think it's getting worse, don't you?"

Hawkins knew that the Duke already knew the answer. Thus he didn't respond.

"I've considered retiring you know. But Thomas and Elizabeth are…" He paused, turning to stare out his office window into the Industrial landscape of Weselton's Capitol city. "I wouldn't wish this job on my worst enemy, let alone my children. If only George was still alive…"

"I miss the lad myself, sir. He was a good officer and a good man, even to his enlisted men. But we don't _have _to pass it down to your children."

The Duke scoffed. "And let Parliament do it? Those idiots are barely capable of passing basic government budgets without my interference, let alone rule a country! The Old Guard are a bunch of British sympathizers that'd have us under mother England's shackles in a heartbeat. And the new breed are just too damn inexperienced to run Weselton. Perhaps in five or ten years they'll be ready."

"Sir, with all due respect, I sincerely doubt you'll make it another ten years."

The Duke gave Hawkins a truly sad, despaired look before uttering in a brave voice "I'll have too." But his eye's said something else:

_I know._

…

Elsa briskly walked into her chambers, slamming the door shut behind her. She strolled over to one of her loveseats, flopping down on it in tired exhaustion. She once again felt weak and powerless, this brought on by the shit day she just had. She had just endured her first day of actual "trial", and it did not go well for her.

Firstly they covered the charges of desertion. To be fair, she couldn't really argue against that. She _did _run off to the North Mountain. And while she didn't know that she had caused winter in Arendal, she should have known better. And it turned out that "I thought my staff would turn on me and burn me as a witch" didn't work as a defense. So she doubted she had won any confidence there. A Queen with no confidence in her staff was a Queen with no confidence, after all.

Which led to the second charge- attempted murder, as well as assault and battery. She did her best to emphasize that she never intended to hurt anyone at the North Mountain, Marshmallow really did a number on a couple of her soldiers. Luckily, nobody really pushed the incident with Weselton's thugs. Even her opponents had justly considered that self-defense. Still, she had not done a fantastic job in defending her actions. After all, this was not about guilt.

This was her only opportunity to convince the council that she was fit to be Queen. And while as each day wore on she wished she was not Queen, she still worried about Anna's ability to rule.

_If I'm not ready, poor Anna would be simply overwhelmed…_

Elsa paused, as a very dark thought entered her head.

… _or would she?_

Her mind went into overdrive, as a whole new world of possibilities opened up. After all, who handled the crisis in Arendal with a brave face?

Who fearlessly quested to return her to Arendal, not giving up even after Elsa had summoned Marshmallow?

Anna was the fearless leader Arendal needed, not her. Better yet, more than fearless she was a _natural _leader. People just seemed to like her more than they did Elsa. Sure a little bit of help from the council and herself would be needed, but Anna would make a _much _better Queen… right?

Elsa leaped up, bounding to her desk in a moment. Eyes wide with giddy and inspiration, she furiously began to scribble onto parchment the machinations of her ill-conceived plot.

…

As Elsa planted the seeds of self-destruction, Anna was doing everything in her power to save Elsa's rule, which today involved a back-door meeting with one of the loyalists as well as the opposition. Representing the loyalists was Hilfred Widstrom, whose politics were not as simple as she first thought. In fact the man was the one who stepped forward to assist Anna in her quest to win Elsa's crown back, moving a number of pieces behind the scenes in her favor.

The other was the opposition member Harald Fafnirsen, Deputy Minister of Defense. While Anna had initially saw the small, meek looking man as a nervous wreck, the last few days had shown him to be a mouse that could roar. While a member of the opposition, Harald was more than willing to raise his voice against even his "comrades" when they argued against his politics. Like Widstrom, he too had to fill in after his superior resigned in protest of the secrecy of the Queen's magic. Both were men of the hour.

Anna's eyes darted back and forth, before nervously beginning the informal meeting.

"So… you arranged this meeting, Ministers?"

"Yes." Widstrom stepped forward, before continuing. "I have contacted several members of the opposition through Minister Fafnirsen here, and they assure me that a better alternative to the current course of action can be achieved."

Harald cut in eager to get his piece in, as he was a man who took great pleasure in his handiwork. "Yes… a number of the opposition feel that removing Queen Elsa would be a… drastic choice."

Anna cocked an eyebrow. "Then why vote to begin the proceedings?"

Harald smiled. "Politics, your highness. They, like myself, believe it is time to reduce the monarchy's power in Arendal. And this situation allows us to propel our platform forward."

Anna developed a disgusted look upon her face. "You… weasel!"

Fafnirsen shrugged. "Call me what you like, but we have your sister in political checkmate. She either gives up some of her powers, or she loses the throne and _you _lose your powers."

"What makes you think I will give up my powers if I become Queen!?" Anna demanded with a harrumph.

"Tell me Princess, how would you advise the commander of Battlegroup North against a Norwegian invasion as compared to an invasion from the Danes?"

Anna's confused stare gave the acting Minister of Defense all the satisfaction he needed. "If this nation is to survive the coming days, we need competent leadership. You are clever, your highness. But cleverness won't save us. But I digress. Backhanded they may be, my platform will save your sister's crown. You can count on that."

Sensing the tension and eager to play the peacekeeper, Hilfred stepped back in. "Harald, could you excuse us please?" The small man nodded, before leaving the small room. Waiting until the door clicked shut, Widstrom continued. "Now while these negotiations are vital, there is another issue I need to address, your highness."

Anna took a deep breath, before giving her attention to the Deputy Interior Minister. "Yes?"

"You see, I feel that while the Opposition can be dealt with diplomatically, there is another threat to peace and order in Arendal- the Army."

Anna gave a look that belittled at the idiotic statement. "The Army? They are a little too… eager, but I don't doubt their loyalty."

"That's the problem. Chances they are planning some sort of reactionary move to the proposals put forth by the council, plans that could lead to dire consequences."

"Good!" Anna crowed triumphantly. "With all the crap they've been pulling, maybe they should be arrested!"

"Well, as nice and simple as that would be, that would likely cause riots and possible revolts. Our foreign enemies would be more than happy to move in and take advantage of the anarchy. As unpleasant as it would be, this proposal _needs _to pass. And we can't trust the army to not act."

"What are you proposing?"

"I have an initiative that I drew up a few days ago, back when this crisis started. Simply put, a second security force under the Council's control would be established to police the Capital, as well as assist the Palace Guard. This would ensure that the army would go back to defending our borders, not threating to overthrow the civilian government!"

Anna shook her head. "Look, you've been a great help to me. But I rather deal with the devil I know than the devils I don't. And I may not know the game too well, but I do know that civilian police fall under the control of the Interior Ministry. Good day, Minister Widstrom."

Anna turned and left abruptly, leaving the Minister in the room. As the door clicked shut, a grin grew on the acting Interior Minister's face.

"Well, I'll just have to go to plan B."

…

Eva sat on her horse as the column of refugees trekked south away from the fighting on the back roads, still numb from the horror she saw in Ulfberg. To her fellows she put on a cocky, sarcastic grin to reassure them that the world was still right. After all if the Left hand of the Queen despaired, then they clearly stood no chance, right?

Plus she had a job to do. In this column was the Royal Ice Master and Deliverer, the bullshit title invented to reward the Crown Princess's fancied. His safe return would be most beneficial to the morale of the Royal Family, so she was glad to expedite that process. Queens and Princesses deserved guilty pleasures like anyone else, she supposed.

As for the bulk of the trolls, they had parted ways much earlier in the day, as they determined they had gotten close enough to civilization for their own comfort. As such they turned to enter one of their secret hideaways to wait out the coming storm. Bulda and their Chief decided to continue south, and surprised the former Gebirgsjager by using a disguising crystal that made them appear human…ish.

While any glance or even a close look would determine them to be little more than heavy-set humans, an in depth inspection or face to face conversation would certainly raise red flags. She wasn't too concerned for the trip south, but if a Grenadier or Landwehr soldier garrisoning the city felt like doing his job particularly well… it could result in a questionnaire the Trolls weren't asking for.

As she removed her cap to scratch her head, she felt a wet drop on her cheek, as if a rain drop had fallen. She tucked her cap back on quickly, a little startled by the cold shock.

_A summer rainstorm, perhaps?_

She looked up to the grey overcast sky that had hung over them for the last several hours, before she saw the precipitation begin to fall in mass. To the inclement weather, Eva had only one thing to say.

"Aw shit."


	14. Chapter 14- Snowfall

July 26th, 1840

Tryggvason, Northern Arendal

Ásta stuck a finger into her still desiccated mouth, forcing herself to purge of her stomach into the sink of her apartment.All night she had become incredibly sick after killing and eating the flesh of two rebel soldiers, which did not please her palate whatsoever. It also caused her some annoyance.

_It's just my luck that the old stories of my kind consuming human flesh with ease were bullshit. Fucking hell._

As the last bit of stomach acid dripped into the sink, she wiped her mouth and rinsed with some water before collecting herself. After all, she had work to do. She turned to her table of ancient Norse artifacts, selecting a specific necklace.

It was a beautiful silver and sapphire necklace, though the silver was so minimal it was as if the necklace was entirely blue, blue as a cloudless winter night sky. Each gem had been shaped into a long rhombus, with the largest centered at the bottom. And while the others were certainly beautiful, it was this one that crowned them all. Stark as an icy night, it was hard to tell if it was one's imagination or magic itself that caused one to see falling snow in the gem.

Despite being quite familiar with it, even the Draugr couldn't help but take a moment to appreciate the beauty of the necklace before she donned it. Turning to face the mirror, she mentally prepared herself for a moment.

_Well, it's about that time._

She began to mutter in ancient Norse, as both her eyes and the necklace began to glow blue. Whereas before the necklace drew light in like the night, it now expelled radiance. She continued to chant for a moment, before finishing her spell as the both the necklace and her eyes surged before returning to normal. A twinge of sadness set in as she put on her cloak and mask, as a thought struck her before setting out the door.

_Let's hope I don't have to carry this on for long._

…

It did not take too long before Ásta found Surtrsen, just as crazy as ever. Propped up on a wagon serving as a stage, as rain lightly sprinkled about him, he nonetheless was in the middle of a diatribe which was as far as she could tell by the number of officers and sergeants standing by tables with documents and clothing, was an attempt to draw in recruits. And by the very small amount of onlookers and even fewer takers, he was failing. That didn't seem to discourage him.

"-and if we do not strike south with a sizeable host, the Wicked Witch of the South _will _curse this land again! To merely wave flags and cheer is not enough! The men of the North _must _take arms to defend their homes!"

The men gathered merely shrugged, and carried on with their business, as the Major wiped a mixture of rain and sweat off his brow, before spotting his savior out from the corner of his eye. Gesturing for one of his officers to continue on, he hopped down and quickly stepped over to her. Happy as a school boy, words began to flow from his mouth before he even reached her.

"You're back! Thank god in heaven! With your miracles, we will have no trouble in rallying the people to march south!"

Asta's eyes grew angry. "What did you tell the people of me?"

Surtrsen shrunk a little, but still took a defensive tone. "Nothing, as you instructed! But now that you are back, what reason do we have to not show people that god is truly with us?"

Relieved that a spotlight was not thrust on her, she relaxed a little. It was bad enough that her failed plan in Arendal led to her discovery, she didn't want Elsa to know she was leading this army just yet.

"Tell me, Major. We lead an army south to fight the sorcery of the Snow Queen. And you think showing my divine powers to the masses, which may mistake them for sorcery, would be wise?"

Surtrsen face developed into a confounded mess. "Well, no-"

"Exactly. Besides, God needs the people of Arendal to save _themselves _from this wicked magic. If not, he would have simply struck the foul sorceress down already."

"I see your point, your Holiness. But how do I rally the people? Our forces have taken considerable ground, but the people are not rising up as expected! Without the aid of the masses, we cannot hope to best the loyalists!"

"Surtrsen, I have heard of your work so far. You speak to all the Christian faith, which is proper. The divides that separate the faithful is wrong."

"It is? I merely worked towards that direction with the impression that _you _would show us the true way god intended to be worshipped."

"No. God and our Lord are not concerned with such small matters of procedure and customs. All that matters is to hold a love for our Lord and savior in your heart."

The major looked really moved, but still a little torn. "That is wonderful, but the ceremonies I've held sacred all my life… I figured some would be wrong but to find out that all of it is meaningless…"

"Fret not, Surtrsen. God finds it all beautiful, no matter the faith. His only concern is that good Christians have butchered each other while pagans and heathens plot against us. Christianity must stand united in this regard. But let us put this aside, god has shown me much, and he assures us that we will have what we need to prevail." She paused, before smiling and gesturing up. "After all, our enemy will give us every cause. Look."

Surtrsen looked up, as a sense of dread set in. He hardly noticed that that the sprinkling had stopped, and in its stead, white snow had begun to fall from the grey skies. He looked about, and noticed that a few others had begun to notice, and had begun to panic. Already a handful of men were inquiring with the recruiters. Little did he know, that within hours the tables would soon be packed with potential recruits.

…

The Royal Palace, Arendal

Anna slipped downstairs for a late breakfast, as even the dread and loom of the council's actions did not rob the princess of her late wake ups. Her own fears had nagged her all night and since waking, but it paled in comparison as to when she saw Elsa enter the room.

She entered the room with a troubling happy expression, as she bore a nervous smile despite massive bags under her reddened eyes. The dark rings circling her clearly exhausted eyes, as well as her smeared makeup and her clothes quickly told Anna that Elsa had not slept last night. But she didn't seem upset, which Anna didn't know if this was good or bad. Either way, it scared her.

"Elsa, are you alright?"

"Anna, I did it! I found a solution to our problems!" Anna noticed that Elsa's eyes were unfocused, likely a side effect of having had no sleep all night. She likely was running on fumes at this point.

"Elsa, whatever you found, it can wait till you've gotten some sleep."

"No, don't you see?" Elsa produced a stack of papers, pointing to it excessively. "I can't believe it's been before us this whole time!"

"What has, Elsa?"

"The answer to all of this! It's simple, I'll make you my regent!"

Anna's eyes narrowed in shock. "What?"

"I can't believe I didn't notice it before. The Great Freeze, even before that, you've _always _been a leader Anna!"

Anna raised her hands in protest, as if telling a class of children to quiet down. "Elsa, this is insane. _You _are the queen, it's what you've been raised to do your whole life!"

Elsa's tone shifted slightly, as she shifted to a defensive tone. "Anna, leaders are born. Not made. I'll never be a charismatic leader. Not like _you. _People are drawn to you."

"Elsa. I don't _want _to be Queen." Anna didn't know how else to put it, and she had to knock some sense in Elsa. As much as she felt a little useless as the Spare at times, she had no burning desire to rule either.

"You won't be Queen, Anna. You'll be Regent."

"That's the same thing Elsa!" Anna was shifting from stern to angry, though her mind was too distracted to notice. "All the burden, all the responsibility, Elsa I can't handle it!"

Elsa herself was becoming cross. Why couldn't she see the brilliance of this? "It won't be that bad Anna, I'll be there to advise you every step of the way. All you need to-"

Anna stamped her foot down. "Elsa, no! I can't do it!"

Elsa snapped, thanks to a good deal of anger and sleep deprivation. She would immediately regret the words to come. "Yes you can! You're just being selfish!"

Anna's face was blown back with offence. "Selfish? I gave my _life _for you Elsa! What have you _ever _done for me?" Anna too felt a twinge of regret, but hurt feelings and pride had a funny way of overpowering such things. "You locked me out for 13 years, you abandon me and Arendal when your secret was discovered, and now you want to do it again! Did you _ever care _for me?"

"Anna… Everything I did was to protect you…"

"Was it? Or is just what you tell yourself?!"

Anna turned to storm out on a high note, flinging the door open. However she froze, before turning back to Elsa with an extremely worried expression. "Elsa?"

Elsa stepped forward, to investigate before herself freezing in terror as she saw two things that struck fear into her heart. Firstly as expected, a large streak of white flooded through Anna's hair, signaling her growing anger in Elsa. But it was out the window across from the door that concerned Elsa and a larger scale. There in the courtyard, snow fell heavily.

A ghastly Anna asked the question that needed asking. "Is… is this you?"

It was a fair question. The room had turned into a meat locker as a direct result of the argument, with some corners of the room having frozen over. And while Elsa had a firmer grasp of her powers, she still didn't understand it all. After all, she didn't know she had cast a region-wide cursed winter, and didn't know it. How could she know if this was here or not?

"I don't know Anna. I really don't."

…

Eva sighed in relief as the outer walls of the Town of Arendal appeared through the silent snowfall, before turning about and signaling the others forward. Tired, foot sore and now cold, she really wished her horse wasn't exhausted. At least then she wouldn't be walking. She and the others had been trudging southwards for two days now, first through rain and now through snow. Nobody had said it, but they were all thinking it.

Elsa had caused a second great freeze inside of a single month.

_To think I haven't even gotten paid for this shit yet…_

She was joined by a recently conscious and mobile Kristoff, who came trudging through the mud, still wet and unfrozen yet. Unlike many of the refugees fleeing south, the _Sami _had winter clothes packed. Arms crossed and bundled up, he began to walk and talk with the former soldier.

"So, I didn't thank you yet."

Eva grunted. "For what?"

"For helping my people, both born and adopted?"

"It was on the way. Besides, wouldn't do to possibly cross my employers' boy-toy."

Kristoff would have turned red if he wasn't already rosy from the cold. "What-"

"Oh come on. Fairly attractive lad travels with the Princess, next thing you know he is randomly chosen for a court posting that has little to no responsibilities, yet keeps him close to home? Don't insult my intelligence."

"It isn't like that… I haven't done _anything _with the Princess. Or anyone else for that matter…"

Eva, quite familiar with the shy admittances of more than one virgin soldier, turned and gave Kristoff a hard, shocked look. "You're shitting me. How have you not beaten around the bush with a nice Sami girl?"

"Uh… Trolls?"

"Yeah, but you _harvest ice _with the other Sami, don't you? You don't visit their villages from time to time?"

"I'm not really a people person…"

"Well no fuck. Neither am I, but that never stopped me from having a good time. In any case, what are you doing with the Princess, courting her?"

An unsure look told Eva what she needed to know. Stopping in her track she turned and began to chuckle. "Holy fucking shit, she is! Good luck pal, when she inevitably dumps you for a marriage alliance, give me a call. I'll use you, sure. But at least I won't fucking tease you about it. You'll have a good time."

"Okay, ignoring the randomness of your rather forward suggestion, Anna's not like that."

"Oh, I meant no disrespect to the Crown Princess, but let me dish some reality out for you. She is a lonely, socially inept Crown Princess in dire need for companionship that isn't her sister and Queen. Sure, compared to her _last _suitor, you are the greatest shit ever. But chances are, another Noble or Prince is going to come along, that blows you out of the water. It's going to happen. She doesn't know it either, but that isn't going to change how this ends."

"Yeah, but she _trusts _me. As far as she knows, anybody else could be just another Hans."

"True. But trust is just one part of what make couples click. I trust a number of men implicitly, doesn't mean I wanna marry them. Besides, how do you two bond? What's your favorite work of Voltaire? Or perhaps you are a Dickens man?"

"I don't speak French. Or English."

"She does. But that's Okay." Pausing for moment to mentally switch languages, she continued in German. "Perhaps you know a good poem from Goethe for the lovely Princess?"

Kristoff was awkwardly silently for a moment, before answering. "I'm not too fluent in German, only passable."

"So, tell me again how you intend to woo the Princess when you can barely speak her native tongue?"

"Be myself…?"

"Well, at least you get that much right. And sincerely, I hope you get the girl. But if you get passed over, and you will, don't let it get you too far down. You shot for the stars, and you missed. Shit happens. Just give me a call, and I'll give you one wild ride."

Eva quickened her pace, moving to the head of the column to once again scout for the group. Kristoff shoulders slumped, before settling on a confused expression. "Why are you so obsessed with having sex with me!?"

Without even turning around, Eva answered sure of herself. "I helped your mother change some of your bandages last night. I know what you got down there!"

Kristoff stopped, as a certain realization dawned upon him.

_I didn't have any leg injuries…_

He turned about, finding Bulda closer than expected. Certainly close enough to have overheard.

"Mom, why did you check my legs for injuries? I wasn't even hurt down there!"

Bulda smiled. "Better safe than sorry, but now that I think of it she was awfully focused on the lower half of your body…"

"Mom!"

Bulda simply shrugged, causing Kristoff to scoff in embarrassment and keep trudging on. As he shook his head, a strong gust of cold wind brought on a dose of reality. He had nearly forgotten that the land was in another cursed winter. Funny thing that.

_I just hope you're safe, Anna…_

…

Bit of Notes

Well, it's been over a year since I published this mess. When it started it was supposed to be a simple "Courtroom" piece that was merely a bridging work leading to other things. But then our lovely friend the Draugr came along and threw one hell of a monkey wrench into matters.

When I started this I was a bored, homesick soldier in Afghanistan, marking time into I would come back to the USA. Now I mark time till I leave the active duty army and go to the National Guard. To all of those that have stuck around this long, thanks a ton. Hopefully, I'll won't be writing one of these in a year and Aftermath will be done. We've entered into the Endgame now, and things are coming to a head. Let's just hope real life doesn't get in the way.

To all my reviewers, thanks a ton from the bottom of my heart. Your responses and criticisms is what keeps me writing, and I couldn't do it without you. Shout-outs to those who have favorited the work, and the silent majority who read my work. You guys are the best.

Hopefully I'll get something else in January, but until next time, peace out.

O7,

Dragunov888


	15. Chapter 15- Moves

July 26th, 1840

Royal Palace's War Room, Arendal

General Wilhelmsen twisted his moustache with anxiety when the last man of the desired Trifecta of Generals entered the room. General Paulus Hindsfjell had arrived with him 20 minutes prior, with the new arrival being General Norulf Istaal, Commanding General of the Landwehr.

Wilhelmsen was never a huge fan of Istaal for a variety reasons, the first of which reminded him the moment the General walked through the door. Istaal was a very pompous man who almost always dressed himself in the fullest of dress uniforms, complete with his General's sash draped over his shoulder as well as the purple waist sash typical of the officer corps of the military. These gaudy ornaments accompanied just about every medal, badge, and order the General had ever won making him jingle with every step. To make the man seem even more comical, he was quite overweight while sporting a moustache linked to his sideburns linked to well-groomed widow's peak hair that has long since grayed. Compared to both Hindsfjell's and his own Spartan dress code and life style, Istaal was a fat, pompous ass.

In addition to his extravagant and wasteful ways, Wilhelmsen didn't like Istaal as a commanding officer as well. Istaal was hardly a fool when it came to strategy and tactics, but unlike himself and Paulus, he was certainly lacking. He had little initiative, only likely to move without orders in the most extreme of situations or if instructed to do so before. No, Istaal's one saving grace was that the man worshiped orders, and moved heaven and earth to ensure that they were followed. If he was ordered to hold ground, it was held to the last man and bullet, himself included.

This made Wilhelmsen nervous, as he was quite worried that Istaal was unlikely to help their conspiracy, but he had no choice. Thanks to the reports that had begun trickling in hours before that they were facing full on rebellion in both the far North as well as the south-western coasts. Both he and Paulus knew that the bulk of the Professional troops would soon be scattered to the Four Winds, leaving minimal troops in the Capital itself. He needed those Landwehr troops.

So he put on his best fake smile and greeted his fellow General. "Ah Norulf, it's been a while. Please sit down."

Despite what Wilhelmsen thought of him, Istaal was hardly a fool, especially in political manners. His steely hazel eyes bore into Wilhelmsen, the only hard thing on the fat man's body. "What's this about, Wilhelmsen?"

Wilhelmsen sighed and smiled. "I am sure you've been made aware of the recent actions of the Council of Ministers?"

"Yes, I have. I suppose you both… _disagree _with this?"

Wilhelmsen cocked his head. He shouldn't be surprised, as it was well know that Istaal was good at the game of thrones. He didn't rise to one of the top seats in the military for nothing, after all. "I suppose we do."

Istaal simply stared at Wilhelmsen, having deduced that while he was subordinate to Hindsfjell, he was the mastermind. But Istaal knew better than to be the first to speak of treason. After a moment of awkward silence, Wilhelmsen made the leap.

"You know what must be done, Istaal. The Council cannot be permitted to take power from Queen Elsa. Orders or not."

Istaal's fat face grew into a grimace. "No. It is not my place to interfere with the politics of the state, and it is not yours either, Wilhelmsen."

"Don't play coy, Istaal. We both know that at this level, politics is the name of the game."

"Yes, but it shouldn't be. And overthrowing the civilian government is not something to do on a whim!"

Wilhelmsen grey angry and flustered, stamping his foot down as Hindsfjell sat silently. "This is no mere whim! This is the death of the Monarchy! Just because Queen Elsa is too naïve to see or prevent it doesn't make it any less true!"

"It is up to Queen Elsa to decide the fate of the country, not us. If she decides to let the politicians and people have a go, then so be it!"

"Let the-"Wilhelmsen almost erupted into a seizure at the fat General's response. "The last time someone let the people have a go, the wars lasted twenty years! Or perhaps you've stuffed too much cake into your face and you've forgotten!"

At once, General Istaal changed into a different man. Gone was the annoyed fat man and replacing him was one that Wilhelmsen had never seen, but Hindsfjell had- at Ligny and Waterloo. With a cold voice, he began. "Do not mistake my softness of body for softness of character, Wilhelmsen. While you scampered dispatches between Generals because of who your father was, I stood with my men against the French. I would be careful to question the honor of a man who bears the wound badge, especially since you do not, _Staff Officer._"

Wilhelmsen shrunk a little, with his always troubling nerves clouding his brain. He had the wisdom to not say something foolish in response, but that helped him little since all he could think up was foolish responses. As such, Istaal finished the matter.

"It is not my job to interpret orders. It is to carry them out. Due to my honor as a General and an Officer, I will of course not mention what was discussed here tonight. But I will not move without authorization from the Royal Family, nor will I see my forces moved. And my subordinates know this as well. Good night, Gentlemen."

As the fat man lumbered out the door, Wilhelmsen shook his head in anger and disgust. While Hindsfjell was Acting Commander in Chief of the Army and could give orders as such, that did them little good now. With the war soon extracting the bulk of his troops to the front, which left the Landwehr. These troops were thereby untouchable, save to two people besides the Monarch- the General of the Landwehr and his immediate boss, the Crown Princess Anna. But the Princess would certainly follow her sister's lead, and she would never move against her wishes.

_If only the Crown Princess could be trusted to move against the Council… what a shame._

…

July 27th, 1840

Arendal Wilderness

Ásta led her horse through the wooded trail, followed by a small number of rebel cavalrymen. It turned out a nearby Troop of Landwehr cavalrymen had also turned traitor and threw their cause in with Surtrsen. Ásta certainly though it odd that so many were flocking to Surtrsen instead of going rogue, but as it was beginning to occur to her, most of these rebel soldiers were made up of two categories. The first was similar to Surtrsen, except being more hateful towards ethnic minorities, such as Catholics, Jews and the Sami; in addition to pagans. While disappointed that they couldn't target Catholics directly, they were more than happy to be given free reign against the other two.

The second group was by far the minority but seemed to grow by the day, these being men who were becoming convinced that events had forced them to choose between the Queen or their homes and families. Due to the second winter that had started the day before, these men had become convinced that Queen Elsa was clearly uncaring for their lives. And while it was easily likely that men of this category were quite possible to hold bigoted view points as well, it wasn't what drove them to the streets in revolt.

What all of this meant to Ásta was that "her" Extremist revolt was in danger of being of being taken over by desperate moderates that might turn this revolt civilized. Now while she could certainly poison the minds of her moderate soldiers, she couldn't do it if they simply took over the revolt. So she had to find more extremists, which led her south with these men.

She had felt a great storm of madness in the southern coasts south-west of Arendal, and by doing some research and intelligence gathering she had learned that a large band of outlaws had begun a separate rebellion in their region. Ásta's goal was to recruit these men.

In addition to the cavalrymen was an officer representing Surtrsen, Lieutenant Frikron. He was hand-picked by Surtrsen, which thanks to her abilities, meant he was hand-picked by Ásta. Unlike many of the other officer's in Surtrsen's original circle, she had sensed that the young man was strong willed and intelligent. Not only did this make him useful for negotiations, but Ásta was intrigued by the man and wanted to keep an eye on him ever since the first night she met him, when Surtrsen's council decided to mutiny.

Likewise, he also carried a great deal of suspicion towards her. Every time Ásta turned about, she caught the young blond officer peering through his metal framed glasses at her with his quick blue eyes. Bold, but truthful. She knew her aura made those nearby feel at unease, but most just shrugged it off or equated it to "holiness". This lad questioned that.

Riding up to the front and out of earshot of the men, he quietly began his own investigation. "So, what do I call you?"

Ásta turned and gave a cold look. "Is that how you address all women you meet? I am sure you're a big hit with the ladies."

"It is how I address the ones who claim to be angels, yet hide behind masks like a leper. You know at least Joan of Arc only claimed to hear God."

Ásta tilted her head, her blues eyes showing her curious mood. "I'm assuming you don't believe the story that I'm too radiant for most men? That it tires me to be presentable to people?" The funny thing was that the second was actually true.

"Not one bit. There's nothing radiant about you that I've seen. In fact you have not done one thing that I would consider a miracle other than somehow twist the good major to do what he's doing now."

Ásta grinned, gauging whether to disappear the man or recruit him. "God works in mysterious ways."

The young officer only had a slight facial tick to the response, but the unusually closed mind of the lad gleaned the required information. She could only get one thing, that being that his mental thought to the concept of God was curious doubt.

_Oh, the boy's a doubter, is he? This will be fun._

Overcoming the odd sensation of being probed, he continued with his thought process. "So this leads to an important question. Why the mask?"

"You aren't ready to see my true face. None of you are."

"What's that-"A swift hand shot up into a halt motion, as the Draugr's head snapped to the distance. She slowly scanned the distant trail, pausing slightly in different positions. Carefully her left hand moved to her sword.

Changing her voice into a stern shout, Ásta called out to the unseen party. "I can see all eleven of you. Reveal yourself. Now."

There was brief silence, as Frikron tried to see the hidden men that Ásta has so easily spotted, slightly worried as the hidden party outnumbered their six almost two to one. After a brief moment, a trio of men emerged from some distant bushes. All three were armed, scruffy men wearing dull colored jackets over prison uniforms and boots.

The toughest of them took a step forward, and began to speak. "What are men in the Queen's uniforms doing on our land."

Asta gave a casual look, completely at eased during what Frikron assumed was a stick-up that could easily lead to a slaughter. She asked, in a bored tone. "Are you the rebel's we've heard about? Muspell's sons?"

"Yes, that's us. But answer my question bitch."

A single laugh came from behind the steel mask. "If you've paid any attention, you'd see that these men no longer bear the crocus. But you'd do better to watch your mouth when addressing a Lady."

"Yeah, and who's going to defend your fucking honor, _cunt? _The boy officer? Or the four dandies on horseback?"

Ásta paused, before quietly slipping off of horseback, causing a murmur of laughter amongst the outlaws. A few cocked the hammers back on their muskets, expecting the situation to unravel after their leader would backhand the wench. Instead, the Draugr quietly stepped up to the man, working her powers to the highest level as she removed her mask and hood.

To the others, they saw a young, unassuming woman, but to the leader, he saw Ásta in all of her terribleness. His mind quickly buckled as it didn't know what to make of what it saw, as she poured an exceptional amount of madness into the man. Every trauma, emotional and physical, experienced and imagined replayed itself as the man begin to shake with horror and piss ran down his leg. After she felt his mind snap satisfactory, she re-donned her hood and mask, before turning to remount her horse.

As she saddled up, the man began to mutter "I'm sorry" in a repetitive manner, clearly terrified. Ásta turned to one of the other escaped prisoners. "Now, I came a long way to meet and ally myself with your leader. Will you take me, or deny me? I'd be _mighty displeased_ if I couldn't."

The convicts took one look at the gibbering mess of a leader, before nodding nervously. "Of course, miss. We'll take you to him, right this way!"

As Frikron tried to figure out what just happened, Ásta merely turned and smiled, barely visibly through the mouth slit on her mask before riding forward.

…

Royal Palace, Arendal

Elsa was walking towards the doors to the war room chamber, when a familiar voice rang out and halted her.

"Elsa wait!"

Anna came running out, with a good amount of the white having reverted back to strawberry blonde, much to Elsa's relief. Elsa knew better than to celebrate prematurely, and set to fixing what she knew she had broken. Plus, she was eager to delay _this _briefing.

"Anna, I'm sorry. I was wrong to run away from responsibility. I shouldn't have dump _my _responsibility on you like that."

"Elsa… it's okay. I know that you didn't mean to hurt me, it's just… it's just you are sometimes so damn hard on yourself. You love me and everything around you, but you hate yourself. You're a thousand times better at this than I'll ever be. You just need to believe in yourself."

Elsa gave a non-committed smile, before she quietly said her farewell. "Thank you Anna, I'll try to remember that." But Anna could tell by Elsa's expression that while she had stopped trying to force her duties onto her and run away, she was far from out of the woods.

_Oh Elsa, when are you going to learn to love yourself?_

Still, Anna and Elsa both took a breath, adopted indifferent expressions, and prepared to enter the military staff meeting together- as sisters.

…

"All Rise for the Queen!"

The mix of senior officers and government officials rose as Elsa and Anna entered the room, with conversation and banter halting until the two Royal sisters moved to the chairs reserved for them, sitting down before Elsa put the men at ease with a hand wave. Wasting no time, the officials began to brief the Queen on the situation at hand.

Being acting commander in chief as the official transfer of operational power had not been given back to the monarchy yet, General Hindsfjell began. "Your Majesty, we have received numerous confirmed reports of a revolt involving mutinous troops of the Tryggvason Landwehr Battalion as well as several other units. These units include the Bykle Landwehr Battalion, and the Landwehr Dragoon Troop from Valle."

Both General Istaal and Colonel Spalter grew disgusted expressions, most likely for their mutinous troops. Hindsfjell continued. "In addition, the Valle Landwehr Battalion and Garrison of Gebirgsjager have experienced a good deal of desertions and defections to the rebel camp. The good news is that a sizeable number of men from the mutinous units have deserted back to our camp. If the amount of deserters is any indication, the mutineers are seriously understrength at this time."

Elsa nodded. "I see. How long has it been since this revolt has started?"

Colonel Grimstad rose to address the Queen. "We believe it began in the pre-dawn hours of the 23rd of July, based on the stories we received from rebel deserters."

Anna interjected, a little unusual but not unwelcomed as both Elsa and the staff did want to see a more active heir. "What happens to the rebel deserters?"

"That depends on the will of the Queen. At the moment we are interning and questioning them, as we do not know if some are spies. I would recommend merciful vigilance, as it encourages desertion. But I am sure some would disagree."

Anna looked to Elsa, who gave an uncommitted reply. "We can handle their fate later. For now we should plan to move before the mutinous troops can really begin to recruit. Deputy Minister Widstrom, I believe you had something else?"

"Yes, your Majesty. In the South-west a similar revolt broke out as well, except it was perpetrated by well-known anarchist radicals. They have caused quite a bit of a mess by raiding prisons and arming convicts."

Elsa raised an eyebrow in concern. "You said well known? How is that this happened if we knew about the group beforehand?"

Widstrom's face turned red with embarrassment at the failure at his job. "Well, the police had long monitored the group in question, which while having a sizeable amount of suspected followers, had little resources and had never carried out any serious acts against the state. Then two days ago we received the first reports of prisons being attacked, with the intent of freeing the men inside. We confirmed those reports yesterday, with the first drafts being sent to you last night."

Grimstad stepped in, visibly irritating Widstrom who clearly didn't like the army stepping on his toes. "Sounds like this little movement- the Republican Revolutionary Brotherhood, I believe they call themselves- has a recently acquired a large surplus of weapons and are trying to build a large revolt. Lacking people, they turn the prisons for fighters."

Widstrom chimed in, not being able to resist the irony of the situation. "A revolt that has more guns than people- I don't think I've heard of that happening before."

Elsa contemplated a moment, before weighing in on the revolt in the South West. "It's not as simple as getting people. I think these people are trying to recreate the storming of the Bastille."

A chilled silence reigned for a second, as the concept of a second French Revolution occurring here in Arendal frightened all of them. Elsa continued. "We need to take action before things get out of hand. I want troops sent to Grimstad, where local commanders more familiar with the situation on the ground will take command. As for the North, General Wilhelmsen, I believe you drafted a plan?"

"Yes your Majesty. I would have 1st Landwehr Regiment March north with supporting elements drawn from the cavalry and artillery deal with the rebels."

Elsa simply starred at the General, as a slight temperature dip was noticed by those in the room. "General, we will not send reservists north to fight a pitched battle merely to keep _your _troops in the capitol for… personal reasons." She paused, looking at the list of total forces available, before allocating based on her military education. "General Hindsfjell, I wish for a Battalion of the Grenadiers to march west to assist the Grimstad Garrison. As for the North, I want two Battalions of Grenadiers to march North with Colonel Spalter's cavalry and a Battery of Guns. Colonel Spalter?"

The gruff German Cavalryman sat up. "Your Majesty?"

"I wish for you to take command of this Northern Battle group. General Istaal is to lend you any Landwehr forces you see fit, as will Colonel Elriksen with regard to the Gebirgsjager. How long do you need to prepare?"

"I will be ready by tomorrow, Your Majesty."

Elsa rose, leading for everyone else to do the same as a sign of respect. "Very well Gentlemen, you have your tasking's. Carry on."

"Your Majesty?" It was Colonel Grimstad who rose, having finally worked up the courage to address the elephant in the room. "This snow storm… is this a measure to impede the enemy invasion?"

It was about as subtle as the question could be asked without accusing the Queen of cursing the whole land- again. But it had to be known.

"No, Colonel. I did not will it to curse the land again. This time it feels different, as if the snow is not my own."

"Are you saying this is enemy action?"

Elsa shook her head a laughed. "Not necessarily Colonel. I feel this way around natural winter, and it is after all, Scandinavia."

Soft laughter was heard, before Queen Elsa's departure caused the officers to go to attention as customs and courtesies demanded.

Colonel Marcks had sat silently, not one to voice his discontent but still very worried. After all it was his Battalions of men being scattered to the four winds. He desired to go with his men, but it was not his place to. The presence of a Colonel would only serve to step on Spalter's toes, and he knew deep down that the Cavalryman was the better choice for the Northern offensive.

Still, he was troubled. He looked at the now changing Campaign map, more specifically the Capital, where a mere 3 battalions remained- the Fourth Battalion of Grenadiers and the 2 Garrisons of Landwehr for the city.

_I better prepare the city for a defense, shouldn't I?_

…

The Eriksen Household, Arendal

Dieter entered the household, already unable to restrain a grin as he heard the laughter of his siblings. As he hung his cap and overcoat up on the rack, he spotted the head of his younger sister Edda pop out into the hallway, as her expression lit up.

"Mama, Papa, Dieter's home!"

A number a joyful exclamations were heard, as his older and younger brother stomped out into the hallway, still in uniform. Dieter laughed as he moved in to bear hug his brothers, whom he had not really gotten to sit down and spend time with since they came back from campaign. Neither had changed too much since they left, with Johann still looking the part of the dashing officer and older brother; while Mikael still poorly fit into his Grenadier uniform with his slight sixteen-year old body.

And while Dieter wanted to lose himself into the evening, he could help but dread the future. For he knew the reason they could all be together tonight, and that was because tomorrow Johann and Mikael knew they were going to war. This might be the last time the siblings saw each over on this earth.

Not only was that cheerful though present, but Dieter had a secret. After the meeting he had went to the Queen and made a request that one way or another, Mikael not go north with his Battalion. He knew it wasn't his place to ask things of the Queen, and if either Sergeant Hvitstrom or Captain Edvard had found this out, it wouldn't be pretty. But at the same time, he'd rather lose his rank and position than possibly lose both his brothers.

With that cheery thought in mind, he shook it off and rejoined in the festivities.

…

Bit of Notes-

Another two weeks, another chapter. Hopefully I can keep this up. The finale is almost upon us, and chances are, after the next chapter or so of filler, it's going to go into overdrive mode as the final act of the crisis resolves itself.

Things are really about to get real.

Unfortunately, in about a week I will be departing for the NTC in Fort Irwin California. Once there I will have little to no internet, and basically no time off, so don't expect much out of February. After that, I'll be very busy getting ready to transition into the National Guard, so I'm not sure if I'll have time to write a lot. But I'll do what I can.

O7,

Dragunov


	16. Chapter 16-Surprise

July 28th, 1840

Whitehall District, London, England

A light rainstorm swept the streets of the government quarter of the British Empire, causing Mister Atkins to pick up his pace to reach the door of the small office he worked on a daily basis. While he had experienced many a storm as an 'exploring' officer under Wellington, he was not as young as he used to be.

_Besides, I have done my time._

Stepping inside the office, he heard the familiar voice of Mister Thomas. "Did you hear the news, Atkins?"

The minister shed his wet woolen coat and top hat on the nearby rack, turning to face his colleague and speaking at the same time. "And what's that?"

"The Duke of Weselton has backed out. And while Hawkins may have moved without his orders, he wouldn't dare defy him."

Atkins cocked an eyebrow. "This makes operations in Arendal much more… complicated."

"Indeed. However, not impossible. But I need your help."

"Oh?"

"With the muskets delivered, the fire has already been started. But without fuel, our revolt may fail. However, I know a large number of mercenaries that are either in the area or in route. With these, the Loyalists are sure to fall."

"And I assume you need my contacts in Norway to get them safely offloaded and moved to the front?"

"Of course. And I don't need to be a diplomat to know that the Norwegians would be happier without an Ice Queen as their neighbor."

"True. Now while this is all too easy to arrange, don't we want chaos, rather than an easy rebel victory?"

"Of course. The difference is that the mercenaries are also to either leave as soon as the battle is won, or even better yet, turn on the rebels."

"And this can't be traced back to us?"

"Of course not, Atkins. I'm the soul of caution, after all."

…

Castle Courtyard, Arendal

Mikael and his fellow Grenadiers had been busy all morning packing, drawing supplies, and loading wagons and pack animals with the necessary provisions needed for a campaign. While they were certainly busy, a silence had fallen over the once talkative squad as the implications of what was coming chilled their bones.

They had been in the thick of the fighting earlier that summer against a warlord who had set himself in the borderlands in the north, and had certainly had had their whiff of grapeshot. As such, none had any illusions of what battle, or campaigning was like. Worse yet was that these were their own countrymen, not outlaws. Some of them knew men who served in units that had gone dark. As such they were forced to ponder if their own comrades had been killed or turn traitor, and also ponder which of the two was worse. It was a hard call, as what few moments of peace were used to sternly curse the turn-coats.

It was in this atmosphere when in the early afternoon an officer approached Mikael's squad during a quick respite, telling them to go to relax before they could scramble to their feet. Still, Lundgren made a point as Lance Corporal to not waste the officer's time.

"What can we do for you, sir?"

"Is this the squad containing the following men: Lance Corporals Lundgren and Asgeirsen, as well as Grenadiers Eriksen, Karlsen, Jegersen and Vilgerdarsen?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. As of today you men are to be transferred to the 2nd Battalion, Arendal's-Own Landwehr Regiment in a manpower exchange, by order of Colonel Marcks. As Corporal Johansen has become ill, Lance Corporal Lundgren is to be promoted to Brevet Corporal. Any Questions, Gentlemen?"

Lundgren was too shocked to respond, leaving Asgeirsen to fill in. "Yes sir, is our chain of command tracking this?"

"Of course, here are your orders." After passing out a number of pieces of parchment, he continued. "Now, naturally go speak to your Company Sergeant Major to ensure he can remove you from the Company rosters, and then report to your new Battalion. Carry on."

As quickly as he had appeared, the young officer disappeared for he still had a number of men to give the same orders to. Mikael Eriksen was still confused, when an elbow nudged him lightly. It was Vilgerdarsen.

"Oh Eriksen, you are a crafty one alright. Or just very lucky."

Mikael looked at him in confusion.

"Don't know what I speak of? Your brother got you out of the campaign. Thankfully us too."

Mikael shook his head. "Dieter wouldn't do that."

Asgeirsen piped in. "Vilgerdarsen is right lad. Of all the squads in our company, _we _got picked. That doesn't seem a little odd to you?"

Mikael looked down, feeling a little let down that the brother with the most honorable post may have abused his relationship with the Queen to keep him out of the fighting.

"Either way, we got work to do lads. Let's go let the Sergeant Major know the news."

…

Arendal Wilderness

Ásta and her party made their way through the brigand camp, under the watchful eyes of evil, predatory men. This scene left all of the would-be crusaders on edge save for Ásta herself. The Draugr had nothing to fear from the escaped convicts turned rebels, but instead had a gleeful hatred for them.

Representing in her opinion the worst of both Pagan and Christian Scandinavia, these men combined the savagery and barbarism of the worst of the Viking raiders along with the sickness of mind that came with the Christian belief system. She only smiled as she knew that these men were soon to die.

Coming to the largest tent, the escorts of the party halted themselves as well as the horses. Based by the only serious security in place for the camp, Ásta figured this was the tent of the leader of the bandits. Her suspicions where quickly confirmed.

Within a minute, a bandit emerged from the tent. With a stolen officer's uniform over his rags, this one looked particularly important. "Muspel will see the masked woman now. Alone."

Frikron gave Ásta a concerned look, which she dismissed with a mere hand wave. Ásta wondered why he hadn't figured out by now that she was in no need of protection, but apparently the women of this era where treated as fragile trophies by the "honorable" men, with the rest thinking nothing of beating their wives.

_Oh how far has my beloved Scandinavia fallen. Regardless, it's time to meet this 'Muspel'._

Ásta dismounted her numbed horse, before entering through the flap into the large tent. Hearing the flap slap shut shortly after entering, Ásta was quickly introduced to the sight that was the bandit leader. Tall and bulky even for Scandinavians, he towered over Ásta as he turned towards her, lumbering over her like a bear standing on its hind legs. Unlike the other bandits of self-importance, Muspel stuck true to his adopted name, covering himself with furs and hide that was weighed down with weapons and cartridges. Topping it all off with both fiery red body hair that covered his head, scalp and exposed chest as well as a fiery gaze, Ásta was not surprised that this man had made it to the top of the food chain.

It no longer mattered, as there was a new apex predator in town. She smiled behind her mask.

The large man gestured to a field chair position in front of a war table, covered with maps, crude orders and dispatches. He was hardly a trained officer, but he was trying. Obeying him for now, Ásta sat down as Muspel did likewise in a much larger, nicer chair across from her. All niceties out of the way, the bandit leader went straight to business.

"So you're this holy messenger of god I heard a lot about." While the giant of a man lacked finer grammar knowledge, Ásta was able to see a certain degree of intelligence in the man. Still, Ásta began to worm her way in to his mind to dig for weakness.

"I've been called this, yes."

"Well, is it true? Or are you just a good con-woman?"

Ásta grinned and cocked her head. "What do you think?

"That you are merely a charlatan, puppet mastering a weak man to get what you want."

"Oh, so you don't think I have divine powers?"

"Any more than I can control fire."

Ásta chuckled at this, knowing of what was to happen. Having had the time to dig, Ásta was able to determine his weakness. Years of being locked in one prison or another, Muspell had long become institutionalized to a system where only the strongest had any power or respect. As such, he had become paranoid and fearful of losing his status as the most feared, even now when free. Now he grasped onto power like a man on a bucking stallion, clinging on for dear life. He would be easy to manipulate.

"What's funny, _woman_?"

Ásta's chuckling stopped abruptly, as her face twisted into a frown. All was going to plan, but first Muspell had to be put into place. She sighed, before taking off her mask and pulling her hood back. Now at this point she had two faces- one was her regenerating face that was attempting to return to how she looked when she died. The other was her "death mask", which was the face she bore when she first awoke. While she could also twist the minds of others to change what they saw, those were the two she could actually physically attain. For now, she bore the former, appearing as a later-middle aged woman, still bearing a frown.

Standing up from her chair and moving around to the side of the war table, Ásta began to speak calmly but firm. "Now you see me as I am, for I am no angel. But I have powers that can drive fear into the hearts on men, powers you should _respect_."

His pride and authority challenged, Muspell sharply rose. "Sit down."

Ásta shrugged. "Make me."

Muspell moved over, his large meaty hands grasping her shoulders as he attempted to shove her back into the rickety field chair. However, the Draugr did not budge an inch.

Sighing, she grasped his left forearm, slightly growing her hand with her powers to grasp its entirety. With little effort she wrenched the arm into the air, before squeezing just short of bone damage. With a remarkable degree of restrain Muspell avoided crying out, but still gritted his teeth and hissed to in failed attempt to alleviate pain. Ásta was now in firm control, though Muspell would still need convincing of this.

"Now Muspell- "

His mind not thinking clearly due to a combination of eldritch mind twisting, adrenaline and crushing pain, Muspell did not think that perhaps a woman who appeared past menopause but was lifting him with _one hand _should not be trifled with. Instead he panicked and swung his free fist as hard as he could into Ásta's left cheek. And while Muspell's sucker punch was nothing to laugh at, he might as well have tried punching marble. Pain shot down his fist after impacting cheekbones harder than stone, which was made worse as the Draugr increased the pressure on his forearm. As desired, Ásta felt his forearm bones begin to give way, only to relent at the last second.

_Now, perhaps he will listen._

"Now Muspell, at this point you have two choices. Firstly, I can smash you into this table, the sound of which will attract your guards, who will see you being made helpless by an old woman. Regardless of what happens then, you lose power. Secondly, you can accept the terms to my deal. A deal that will ensure you never have to fear losing the fear of your men again."

"Alright, I'll listen to your deal! But I'm not agreeing to anything until I know details!"

Ásta shrugged, before loosening her grip to where she still had control but was no longer crushing his forearms. "I can respect that. Now, what do you wish to know?"

Gasping in relief, the dominated giant asked away. "How are you going to make it so I never lose my men's fear and respect?"

"Simple. I'm going to make you like me." She produced a vial from a pouch, holding it up to where he could see it. "With this."

With that, Ásta let him go. Upon landing the several inch fall, Muspell staggered back instinctively as he clutched his forearm with his throbbing right hand. There was only one thing to be said.

"_What_ _are you!?"_

Ásta smiled as she set the vial down on the table, before donning her mask and hood once more. Only then did she reply. "Exactly what you thought I wasn't. The Harbinger of a higher power." As she turned to leave, she casually gave her vague directions. "Don't bother sending for me for If you decide to take my offer tonight_. I'll know_."

What Ásta didn't say was she already knew he would take the vial, even if he didn't know it's side effects. For whereas Surtrsen was a slave to his convictions, Muspell was a slave to his paranoia. Even now she knew he would soon figure out that if Ásta had so casually left one vial for him, she could make the same deal to another. He would drink it before dawn, and thanks to her abilities, she would know when he did and would guide him. Just as she hoped.

_All is going according to plan._

…

Bit of Notes:

Long time, no see. Got back from NTC out in California on the 4th, where we kept busy doing recovery and other things that didn't give me much time to write. However, I have begun the general out-processing of the army, so I should have more time. Crossing my fingers, here.

Another thing I should have taken the time to do months ago but have not gotten around to. Since most of my readers read both my running fanfics, I am announcing that Hans' Fate is going into hiatus. It's not that I am out of ideas, but rather that I've been pouring my time and energy into finishing Aftermath, as well as a number of other projects. Of the two series, Hans Fate is meant to be a much longer haul whereas Aftermath is entering its final act now and is being focused on as such. My apologies to the people I've kept waiting without explanation, as I've been working on what was supposed to be the chapter of HF that explained all of this, but it's not getting finished anytime soon. When that gets released, it's not the end of the hiatus.

Thanks for your understanding and viewership,

O7,

Dragunov


	17. Chapter 17- Sleepless

July 29th, 1840

The Sons of Muspell Camp, Western Arendal

Muspell awoke from a restless sleep tormented by dreams of demons, ironically to a much more mundane reason: the call of nature. As he rose from his cot he stumbled out into the unnatural summer snow, he couldn't help but take in the beauty of the snowy wilderness of Arendal. After a few moments of the silence one can only get on a cold night, a soft crunch of snow alerted him to company that he was not expecting.

His heart went into overdrive as he spun about to see Ungbukk, the youngest man in his inner circle facing him down with a drawn dagger. Also ambitious and eager, it did not surprise Muspell to see Ungbukk challenge as such. As expected and required, a number of spectators had gathered to witness the confrontation, to ensure that the matter was done properly. To claim leadership after all, one could not backstab their way to the top. Respect had to be earned.

"Your time is at an end, old man," The younger's eyes were calm and lifeless like that of a shark's but Muspell was still confident.

Drawing his own knife, Muspell squared off and prepared for a death battle, only to be surprised when Ungbukk simply casually strolled towards him, going against everything Muspell had taught him. Seeing the young man's overconfidence get to him he jabbed forward, sending his steel blade right towards Ungbukk's side, only for his arm to be snatched effortlessly and held.

Before Muspell could react, Ungbukk took a hold of him, before easily pushing the knife around back towards him and thrusting it deep into the older man's chest. As he collapsed, breathing his last breath a familiar face appeared, though it was one that gave him no comfort.

The so called Harbinger herself, the masked woman.

Standing over him as but one of many to witness his last moments, for some odd reason her voice rose above all the rest. If the other's noticed this, they did not seem to care.

"You should have taken my offer, Muspell. Instead, I had to find someone else."

At that moment both the masked woman's and Ungbukk's eyes glimmered a bright, pale blue for a second, before Muspell's closed for eternity.

Muspell shot up from his cot, covered in a cold sweat from the nightmare he just endured.

A solid minute passed as Muspell let his heart beat slow as in he took in the real world and convinced himself that the nightmare was just that: a nightmare. Once he regained his calm, he laid back down to try to get sleep.

Instead, he laid awake, unable to shake the vision of his untimely death, and had a debate whether or not to treat it as a warning, and if he did, if it was worth it.

On one hand, the hag had demonstrated that she was no mere charlatan, and that she was very much a threat. He was not foolish enough to discard her as a threat. After all, he did not climb to the top by being trusting and naïve. But on the other, it was obvious that he was being played.

No one just offered power for free. So what was the cost?

He toyed with the idea of it being his soul, but a moment or two of serious pondering made him laugh at the idea. He had no illusions about the state of his soul. He was not headed for some place pleasant, if was headed anywhere at all.

So that left his free will. But why take it? There had to be dozens of men in the camp alone who would have made better brutes than he. There was the issue of the fact that he was the established leader of his men, so she needed his men. But she also seemed needful of an established leader, someone possessing free-will to actually lead his men into battle.

But to Muspell that was even worse. To surrender one's sense of self was a horrible fate, but retaining it only to forever serve as a slave and being conscious for every waking second… that was too much for him. He wore shackles for most of his life, he was not about to put himself back into them.

He cast his blanket off of him, pivoting on his bottom to rise out of bed. The soreness and pains of middle age reminded him that he was long past his prime, as he stood up. Seeing the vial in the dim light of the camp lantern he always kept on, he made his way over to the vile thing. Setting it onto the floor, he raised a foot up to crush it, when a voice startled him.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, dearie."

He spun around to find the masked woman sitting on crate in the corner of the tent. Both her voice and posture projected more boredom than concern of ruined plans. Muspell looked at her, before turning to the entrance of the tent, seeing that the flap was still secured.

"Oh, I'm not actually here, Muspell. I'm in your head. A vision, if you will."

"Then depart, foul witch. Kill me if you will, but I will die free."

The masked woman laughed. "You think I really need a slave?" She stood up, before moving over to the maps that cover his table. "No… you'll be free to do as you will once you have done one tiny little favor for me."

"You want my men to march east and help you take Arendal. Not too big on my men acting as cannon fodder."

"Besides that. Besides, we both know that you and your men were going to try to sack Arendal anyways. No, my favor is much more simple."

The Draugr produced a dagger from her person, the mere site unnerved Muspell. Darker than normal steel with rough edges and covered with the runes of his forefathers, even with his poor state of education, even he could tell that this was an ancient blade.

"This is Nárhvílð, or corpse-rest in today's tongue. Made of cold-iron, this blade was made to kill beings like me by the ancient royal family of this land. However, this blade can be turned and corrupted if it ever to be used against the blood it was made to defend."

"The Queen?" Muspell's eyes grew at the idea of the massive task, even with powers.

"No, Elsa's blood is too tainted with her magic. It will not recognize it. It must be the Princess whose blood must wet the blade."

"Kill the brat, sounds easy enough."

"No so fast. It must be with the blade, Muspell. You will have great power thanks to the vial. But all is lost if we do not corrupt that blade. Now drink the vial."

Muspell hesitated, before retrieving the vial and opening it. Still uneasy, he nonetheless drank the surprisingly sweet liquid. After all, now knowing the woman's deal, he was more comfortable moving ahead. Just slightly though.

He braced for a moment, waiting for the vial's dark magic to kick in and turn him into whatever the witch actually was. Surprising though, nothing happened other than a slight warm sensation in his belly, as if he drank a fine spirit on a cold day.

"What, did you expect some horrible transformation?" The Draugr shook her head. "I need you to survive, so your change will take some time. Hours at least, more likely a few days. But believe me, it is underway."

With that, Ásta faded away, with only an ominous "I'll keep in touch" to guide the bandit leader for the time being.

…

Hours before sunrise, Anna and Elsa were both fast asleep in different parts of the castle. Anna was in her bed, having spent a fruitless evening trying to win council members over to the pro-Queen faction. Needless to say, it was a stressful and exhausting day and Anna had little trouble falling asleep. So it was hours later that the voice came.

"_**Anna, wake up**__."_

Now normally getting Anna out of bed was a monumental task of its own, but the voice carried with it such weight and power that Anna uncharacteristically bolted up, coming face to face with the source of the voice.

Before Anna was a woman from a long lost era, clad in flax, wool and furs of the Viking era. What struck Anna even more odd was the odd resemblance between the woman before her and herself. At first and even second glance, the woman before her was an older version of herself, perhaps in 5 or so years. As Anna was awestruck and continued to study the stranger's face, the woman continued.

"Anna, it is critical you heed my warning, as your life is in great danger."

"Who… are you?" Anna insisted as the gravity of the specter's last statement blew over her head.

"I am your distant ancestor, Anna. In fact, I was the Queen of Arendal close to a millennium ago. But this is irrelevant. I have come to warn you of my old nemesis, the Draugr."

Anna's eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, you knew the Draugr?"

"Yes, She and I fought many battles, until I vanquished her. But I only have so much time tonight to tell you the danger you face." The specter waved her hand, creating a dagger to float in midair. "This is the blade Nárhvílð, a blade forged by the trolls themselves to defend the royal family against aberrations like the Draugr. But in that lies the danger. Beyond its materiel, its power is in the sword's oath to defend the Royal family. If that were to ever be undone…"

"It'd be really bad?"

"Yes. The Draugr fears the power the blade has though. So she created a Draugr thrall to do the deed for her. That thrall is coming to kill you Anna. You must steel yourself."

Anna was honestly scared at the idea of a Draugr coming to kill her, but she was not going to let the ghost go easily. "Wait, how do you expect me to stop a Draugr?"

"It won't be easy Anna, but it is not impossible. He will be a young Draugr, so he's a mere shadow of my rival's power. You and your sister have power, power neither of you have quite unlocked yet."

"Wait, I have magic?"

The apparition merely smiled, before fading into nothingness.

Anna took in a deep breath, before looking at the wall clock in her room, well positioned to be visible by moonlight. It was hours before anyone else would be awake besides the Guard, so Anna lay back down, and tried to fall back asleep.

She would tell Elsa in the morning.

…

Elsa on the other hand had fallen asleep in her office, having spent the day trying to research a wide variety of subjects in an effort to glean information on a wide variety of subjects- Draugr, succession laws, folklore etc. Like Anna, it had been fairly fruitless.

Unlike Anna though, she was not optimistic enough to sleep peacefully. For a while she had tried to stay on focus, a tangent had led her to continue reading a collection of French accounts of the occupation of the German states during the Great War. These painted a less than flattering image of her father. It wasn't too long before she continued no further and returned to the subject matter she had started out on. But when she finally fell asleep, the visions returned.

…

Everything was burning.

Elsa sat in the square, surrounded by burning buildings as the terrors of a sack in progress commenced. Judging by their uniforms, French and Rhinelander soldiers were putting up a futile defense against Freikorps soldiers who were by the looks of things carrying out a revenge raid. But the battle had already been decided, and while a few Freikorps troops conducted mop-up, the rest were busy "punishing" the town for its collaboration.

Soldiers were setting fire to everything that was nailed down and looting everything that wasn't. And while attacks on the people themselves wasn't initiated, they reacted to any perceived offence with extremely vicious force. Elsa watched a Freikorps soldier strike the lady of a house with a club because she had the audacity to not let go of her jewelry box. And when a gentleman tried to intervene, the club soldier's fellow simply bayonetted him, before kneeling down and rifling through the dying man's pockets.

And above it all was her father. He stood solemnly with his retinue of fellow guerrillas over watching the carnage, quietly dispatching orders to orderlies. And that's what unnerved Elsa, was just how calm he was despite all the carnage about him. Before long, Freikorps soldiers brought a group of civilians before him. He looked the group over, before gesturing them against a wall.

At this point the civilians began to panic, and could only be forced to the wall by rifle butt and bayonet before the escorting party withdrew and formed a line. They readied their muskets as Agdar moved over to them, raising his hand as a preparatory signal to fire.

"You can't do this!"

Elsa snapped her head over to the voice, knowing who it was even though it tore her apart. The German civilians were gone, and in their stead was Anna and a number of other government officials, cowering in fear. Before her very eyes, the small German town in flames turned into a frozen Arendal, with her own soldiers making up the firing party. Most chilling to Elsa was that it was no longer her father standing there, but herself.

Strangely wearing the black uniform of the Freikorps, Totenkopf and all, Dream Elsa turned her head to Anna. Pacing with a sad and hurt expression, Dream Elsa approached, stopping just close enough to lift her chin with her left hand. Still bitter, she began to talk.

"Oh Anna, but why did you side with the traitors? Do you hate me that much?"

"Elsa, I hate what you've become. I was trying to save you from yourself."

"I don't need saving anymore Anna, not since I've embraced what I am. One day, when I stand victorious, and the last of my enemies and betrayers lie dead, you'll see." Dream Elsa paused, smiling for a moment before returning into grim expression. "But I can't let anyone hurt you, Anna. Not even yourself."

Dream Elsa took a step back, before blasting a stunned Anna in the heart with magic, before turning away. Slowly walking, she turned to one of her soldiers and in an almost whisper, gave the verdict. "Shoot all of them but the Princess."

The Guardsman gave a nod, before Elsa saw muskets level. The last thing Elsa witnessed was gunfire and the last of Anna's screams as the ice overcame her.

...

Elsa awoke trembling and hyperventilating, her office a mess as her ice had long before frozen the room solid. She tried in vain to regain control, before deciding that she needed to clear her head before she had any hope of unthawing the room, let alone getting any rest that night. She closed her eyes and felt her hand about, settling her hand on the first ancient feeling book she could find. Opening her eyes and taking deep breaths in an effort to slow her heart rate down, she inspected the book she had randomly selected.

Written in older runes and requiring some mental effort to even read the front cover (which translated roughly to 'An History of Arendal') Elsa sighed in relief. While mind-numbing, if the mental effort required to read this book didn't calm her down, nothing would. She had read this one before when she was much younger, and even she hated how boring it was.

As such she opened to a random page, before flipping to the beginning to the next chapter to get to a good starting point. Clearing her head, she began to read.

_Part III: The Salvation of Arendal_

Elsa laughed, remembering that this was written by a monk during the 11th Century who needless to say, thought that the Christianization of Arendal was the greatest thing ever. She found it nearly as amusing as Part IV: "Recent" Events. The laugh over, she continued to read.

_Chapter I. The Terrible Reign of Queen Ásta._

…

The Sons of Muspell Camp, Western Arendal

Ásta lay on her bed, resting her mind after a long night of exerting her powers. As a Draugr, her body no longer physically needed to sleep, but the human mind was too stubborn even for magic to change. Unlike a human mind, hers had long ago developed the ability to "feel" the dreams and thoughts of others she developed a mental lock on. And often it was at night when she rested that feedback came to her instead of dreams. It was in this state of half sleep that Ásta received the first feedback that concerned or bothered her in anyway, since her first encounter with the Snow Queen. The Snow Queen had discovered an old book, one that the Draugr had wished not been found. One that told _her _story.

For an undead monster, Ásta felt a very human chill go down her spine as she focused everything she had to feel everything she could in Elsa's mind as she unknowingly began to flip through the history of her greatest threat.

For once, the Draugr would be terrorized by the Queen, not the other way around.

…

Bit of Notes:

Well, it's finally here. Three weeks is not as fast as I wanted, but I've been fairly exhausted lately and haven't gotten much writing done unfortunately. That and I've been fairly busy getting ready to clear. On that note, it's finally come. The next 2 weeks I will be officially clearing, followed by the beginning of Terminal Leave. And that's it. I will have officially transitioned to the Army National Guard.

As trade school will not likely begin till next fall, I should have this entire summer to write, though I cannot promise much as I have a number of projects I am currently working on. But all in all, I should see an increase in output. Hopefully.

Until then,

O7

Dragunov


	18. Chapter 18- and Countermoves

Sons of Muspell Camp,

29th July 1840

As the morning's first rays hit the bandit camp, Lieutenant Frikron clutched the dispatch orders, taking a deep breath before approaching the tent containing the masked woman. He had received orders from a courier to have "Her Holiness" regroup with the main army at once, with haste. That meant waking her up, and Frikron did not like dealing with the woman.

Exhausted from a lack of sleep, he absent-mindedly fell back on his past experiences in waking superiors, entering the tent without knocking. Too late he realized the scandal of his action.

Before him was a very awake "Angel", her back facing him as she held an ancient dagger in the air while chanting in an ancient language. She was fully dressed, but not as dressed as she usually was, as she was hoodless, gloveless, and mask-less. So Frikron as a result saw a number of things he was not meant to see.

Her face was obscured as she was facing away but her hair was white and dead, as if a mere rub of it would make it fall out. More troubling was what little exposed skin she had was blue and withered like that of a frozen corpse, with only sinew and bone jutting out of the mummified flesh.

Not believing his eyes, Frikron stumbled backwards in disbelief, knocking over a table. The chanting stopped at once, as the dagger began to be let gently down in a silence unbearable to Frikron. After what seem like an eternity, the monster before him spoke. "It is very rude to enter a lady's chamber without permission, Frikron. And here I thought you were a gentleman."

"How did-"

"I know it was you? I know your scent, Frikron" The corpse before him turned her head, her full terror revealed. A face that was naught but flesh covering sinew and bone now gazed upon him, the blueish-gray skin shriveled to the point that her teeth were bared at him in a hideous grin. But most haunting was the intense glare that emitted from the orbs in her eye sockets, glowing with an unnatural light. If he had felt uneasy in her presence before, he now felt as if he were on the verge of collapse from nausea.

She closed in, dagger in hand, her face stopping mere inches away from his. "But more than that, I felt your mind. And how it cried _monster._"

Frikron trembled, and before long felt warm piss run down his leg as his mind buckled from the sheer terror of what he saw as Ásta continued, her voice shifting into a sarcastic tone. "But what's wrong Frikron? Just last night you were ready to defend my womanly honor."

Frikron's lips moved but failed to produce words, before Ásta gleamed what she needed from his mind. "What am I? I am what your people once called a Draugr. Undead, and very scary. But in a good way. At least _I_ think so."

Finally gaining control of his words, Frikron spoke. "But I saw you-"

"Yes, about that. I wouldn't put much faith in what I appear to your eyes, to be honest. But as to why you see my current form as to my revived form, it's this." Ásta held up the ancient blade to his face. "This blade does a great many thing things. One of which is to show us what we truly are. But I am sorry Frikron. You have seen too- "

The Draugr paused, staring down at Frikron's neck. "Well, isn't _that _interesting."

"W-what?"

The Draugr produced a mirror from her person, holding in back far enough that Frikron could see his profile. "Look."

He scanned a moment, not seeing anything out of place. "I don't see anything."

Ásta sighed in impatience. "Where's your cross, hmm?"

Frikron looked again. She was right, there was no cross necklace that he was expected to wear as a good Christian soldier. Even as he felt it around his neck, in the reflection it was missing. As he pondered the significance, the corpse began to speak.

"I have seen, and am seeing your mind as of now, Frikron. All experience terror when encountered with what should not be, but you," The corpse chuckled, before continuing. "You, as your heart slows and your mind processes what you've seen, you are oddly curious."

Frikron had no words to add, so he stood and let the Draugr continue.

"So, I will offer you a choice. One, I scramble your mind and let you live. You'll survive the coming days, as you will be unfit for duty and will not march with the army. Or two. I let your mind be, and you get to see how deep the rabbit burrow goes. I won't promise you'll live, Frikron. But your questions will be answered."

A sudden knocking was heard, causing Frikron to shift his attention to the door for a moment, before shifting his eyes back to the Draugr, who had already donned her mask and hood in a blink of an eye and was slipping on her gloves. Finishing in a moment, she answered. "Enter."

One of the traitor cavalrymen entered, bowing slightly in the presence of the 'angel.'

"Your holiness, as per the Lieutenant's orders, the… allies of our crusade have been informed of our departure. What orders do you wish to pass on the Muspell?"

"Tell him that for the best chance of success, to leave a sizeable raiding force here to cause havoc as the bulk of his men accompany us to march on Arendal. There his men will find the best loot, after all."

"As you wish." With that the orderly left, leaving Ásta to finish what she started.

"So, Frikron, what _is _your answer?"

…

Royal Palace, Arendal

Elsa opened the door, to find mildly surprised to find Anna already sitting at the dinner table eating her breakfast. Due to Anna's tendency to sleep in, it was a rare day that Anna beat Elsa to breakfast.

"Holy crap Elsa, you actually got some sleep! Good for you!"

"Anna, language. And I stayed up late last night, so no I didn't get too much rest."

"Oh." Anna paused, looking a little bummed, before remembering her own news. "Oh, Elsa! I had a _really _weird dream last night."

Elsa sat down, beginning to glance at a prepared stack of papers for her to review. She had the time to skim the first, a confirmation that the northbound army had taken one of the local Landwehr Battalions with them when they marched north early this morning. Seeing Anna grow cross, she responded. "Oh, yes." She set the paper down, devoting her full attention to Anna. "What happened in your dream, Anna?"

"Well, I think it may have been a vision." Anna started. "In it, an Ancient Norse Queen came to me and warned me. About the Draugr."

Given her own experiences with visions and the seriousness of the situation, Elsa's posture shifted, as she shifted from polite listening to peaked interest. "Do go on, Anna."

"Well, you're not going to like this, but- "Anna chuckled nervously, as she knew that this news was not going to go over well. "-well, in it, this Norse Queen said that the Draugr created another Draugr… to kill me."

"WHAT!?" Elsa exploded in fear, bolting upright as an expression of terror covered her whole face. "Anna, are you sure?"

"I… think so?"

"Oh nonononono…" Elsa devolved in a sheer state of panic, as she began to rattle off ideas and precautionary steps to herself. Hardly the most drastic of which included quadrupling Anna's body guards.

"Elsa, please, calm down." Anna approached the now freezing Elsa, embracing her in a warm hug before reassuring her gently. "It was likely just a dream… you know me, making things crazier. And if not, what is two Draugr going to do that one cannot? Let's just go to Grandpabbie and ask him, okay?"

"Yes, Grandpabbie…" A thought struck her, one that did make her feel awful but distracted her from the potential assassination of her sister. "Anna, I feel terrible that it has taken me this long to bring it up, but how is Kristoff doing? Last I heard he made it back with Grandpabbie and Eva, but I've been so distracted as of late."

Now Anna became the worried one. "Yes, well, he's just about recovered fully, except for the lost fingers. Pabbie did what he could to heal the wounds, but even troll magic cannot grow them back."

"I'm sorry Anna." Elsa thought a moment, before asking "Has he lost the use of his hand?"

"No, he's shown me he's still capable of using the hand well. Though he is of course more concerned that the Draugr would attack the trolls like, merely to keep her past hidden."

"I know." Elsa hesitated, unsure of her decision to not tell Anna of the massacre of Sami people of Ulfberg as told to her by Eva. After a moment, she decided it was the best. "It was cruel of her. But what about her past could be so damaging as to keep it hidden?"

"Beats me, Elsa." Anna was suddenly struck by a thought, going from the slouching position she often assumed in private company to an upright excited position. "The Queen in my dream said that she fought the Draugr. Was there a Queen in our history who fought a Draugr?"

Elsa's eyes lit up as she remembered her late night reading. "Yes, know that you mention it. Queen Frida deposed a Queen Ásta during the Christianization of Arendal. One moment!" Elsa excitedly disappeared from the room, returning in a few minutes with an ancient book from her study. "Here, look!"

Anna studied the ancient text, nodding in agreement after a few moments of quick reading. "So, we know who the Draugr is, then."

"It all makes sense. In the texts it states that the Jarls who fought against her feared this Ásta greatly, to the point they took great steps to seal her up as they convinced she would come back as a Draugr."

"So we have a name, maybe. Do we have anything else?"

"Hold on, I didn't read all of the texts." Elsa, flipped the page, continuing to read the ancient runes before she froze. Her face twisted with fear and sorrow, before she gave Anna a bitter look. "Ásta was like me Anna. She was the first Snow Queen."

"What!?" Anna took the book from an Elsa on the verge of tears, reading the text as well.

_When a number of her Jarls rose up to support the Christian crusaders, the foul witch Ásta cursed the land with an endless winter, one that raged until the heathen was slain._

"Elsa, don't beat yourself up over this. Even _if _this is true, so what? If I read a text saying that a red-headed Queen was pure evil, I wouldn't beat myself up over it, would I?"

Elsa chuckled through her tears. "That's not a good comparison, and you know it."

"Either way, Elsa, let's bring this to Grandpabbie and see what he figures, shall we?"

Elsa nodded, before realizing an important detail from her schedule. "Anna, don't you remember? There's that stupid meeting that Fafnirsen arranged between the council members. Apparently they decided the postpone the proceedings against me thanks to the insurrection."

Anna dismissed the thought with a wave of her hand. "Send a messenger. I don't know about you, Elsa, but I'm more worried about the Draugr than a bunch of crazies in the woods."

Elsa felt uneasy, as she was never one to casually cancel a function, especially this late of notice. But Anna was right. "Sure. Let's go Anna."

…

The ministers were sitting about impatiently, glancing at the clock periodically while also reviewing their notes as they waited for the Queen to arrive when the door opened, bringing in Widstrom with a message.

"Morning, gentlemen. I'm afraid that the Queen and Crown Princess will not be joining us today."

A number of groans were heard from members of both factions, silenced by an irritated General Hindsfjell, who had joined the proceedings along with his colleagues Generals Istaal and Wilhelmsen.

"Quiet! While unfortunate, I'm sure the Queen had her reasons. Now, let us begin this meeting as planned."

"Of course. General." Widstrom closed the door behind him, walking over to his chair. He slid it back, pausing a moment, to address his colleagues. "Now Gentlemen, we have come together to ensure that the crisis at hand is dealt with, before we-"

…

Elsa and Anna had left the main building of the castle compound and had begun walking across the courtyard to the annex that Grandpabbie had stayed in, when it occurred. A thunderous explosion shook the very earth, throwing the two sisters off balance. Taking a moment to recover, the two gazed over the ramparts of the castle at the still visible fireball coming from the direction of Arendal.

"What the hell is that?"

"Anna!"

"Oh really Elsa!? Giant explosions aren't curse worthy!?"

After the guard recovered from the shock, shouts, bells and whistles began to sound as the castle began to teem with Guardsmen as Elsa and Anna were quickly swept up and taken to safety.

…

Hours later, Elsa sat in the Royal Council chamber dismayed and in shock of what had just happened. There wasn't even much ice, as she would have had to have been emotional to lose control. No, now she just sat in numb shock as she tried to grasp her new world.

She had been informed that the explosion she heard was in fact multiple barrels of gunpowder that had exploded underneath the meeting hall where the compromise was being held. Every member of the council was in attendance, and most were now dead. Joining them was a number of the Army's senior staff officers, who were there to address the Minister of Defense with the day to day business of war fighting.

The list of survivors was small, very small. Of the ministers, two escaped without being killed or maimed- Minister of Finance Lundgren and Interior Minister Widstrom. Lundgren's injuries kept him still in the hospital, where as Widstrom sat before the Queen, grimacing from the pain given by his numerous injuries. The only other survivor to be found was Senior Minister Jamesen, who sadly had been reported mortally wounded. Elsa made a note to see him when she had the chance, and of course when her guards let her.

As for the military, Arendal was dealt a serious blow, as Generals Hindsfjell and Istaal were killed in the explosion. In addition, General Wilhelmsen was seriously wounded as well and currently lay in the hospital. As of now, there was no Generals for Elsa to draw on to run the war. The next senior officer was Colonel Marcks who solemnly stood before her as well in addition to Captain Edvard and Sergeant Hvitstrom of her personal guard.

All in all, almost her entire government was killed in one day. Even more terrifying was the thought based on the time the bomb went off, Elsa and Anna would have been killed if they didn't blow off the event. Recovering from the feeling of numbness, Elsa began to grow irate.

"Captain Edvard, how is it a building both myself AND the Crown Princess were to enter was capable of exploding?"

"That's the thing, your majesty." Edvard began, angry at both himself and the party who launched the attack, while trying to remain respectful to the Queen. "Two Guardsmen had just entered the building to do a sweep when the building exploded. We believe that whoever did this despicable attack must have had someone down there, who detonated the powder keg when they were discovered."

The situation explained, Elsa's anger turned to horror. "You are telling me there is a group of people out there that are so desperate to kill me that they would kill themselves to do it?"

"I'm afraid so, your majesty. I suggest we immediately increase-"

Elsa raised her hand to stop the thought. "Captain, I understand your concern, but increasing my Guards is not the answer. If the party responsible could have killed me the old fashioned way, they would have likely tried that first before destroying half a city square, yes?" Elsa paused, before adding. "Besides I was told there were… additional deaths?"

Edvard nodded. "Yes, your majesty. We sent an 8-man detachment to clear the site- 6 regulars and two of your own bodyguards. As of now 2 are wounded, three are confirmed dead and 3 are missing."

"Missing?"

"When a blast is that big, sometimes there's nothing left to find your majesty."

Elsa swallowed, shuddering at that thought. "I see. I am sorry for the loss of your men, Captain. You too, Sergeant."

Sergeant Hvitstrom nodded respectfully, whereas Edvard was a bit more vocal. "Your Majesty, you have nothing to be sorry for. The cowards who did this, _they _will have hell to pay for."

"About that." It was Widstrom, gritting his teeth as he sat up in his chair. "Your Majesty, I am worried this is not the last we have seen of this group. I am sure they will strike again, just not on your person."

"How so?" Elsa asked, already knowing a lot of the answers to her own question.

"Well, It's safe to say that this group is after more than you, your Majesty. The fact they just killed almost all of the Government of Arendal proves that. Now while killing you would certainly cause a collapse of the entire Government, they could achieve a similar effect by going after other targets."

"That'll be difficult, with the army parked on the streets."

"That's another concern. I feel the Army needs to vacate the city."

Colonel Marcks, who had stayed silent this entire time entered the conversation, violently. "Are you insane?! There is no guarantee that this city will not be attacked by the rebels! The army needs to stay where it is, right here!" To emphasize his point, he jabbed his finger down at the floor beneath him as he finished the sentence.

Widstrom rolled his eyes, before elaborating. "While I trust you Colonel, we need to address the fact that to achieve the bombing, the party responsible needed an awful lot of gunpowder. It is possible that the army has been compromised. After all, is the insurrection in question not led by an Army officer?"

"Gentlemen, there is no need to become hostile towards each other. There's too few of us now, and there is no time for that." The Colonel and Minister gave each other a glare, before bowing to the request of their Queen. Elsa continued. "Colonel, we have scant few men left, so I firmly believe that there are more than enough defensive positions on the outskirts of the city. Plus, you'll will have more men available with the police guarding the city. Minister, as for you, what do you need?"

"Your Majesty, there's no other way. I need to put the city on lockdown."

…

London, England

Mister Thomas stood in the hallway in his finest suit, sweat trickling down his face slightly. For the countless time this hour, he produced a kerchief and wiped his grey brow as he continued to wait in extreme anxiety. And anxious he was rightfully so, as he was about to meet the Queen Victoria.

He should have known something was up when his old colleague, Mister Adkins was suddenly sent away on a diplomatic mission to Denmark, with little warning. Within hours, he received an urgent message requiring him to present himself to the Queen herself for an… inquiry. He didn't like it.

The two reported little enough to the Prime Minister, their group's immediate superior, in order to distance the top from the less pleasant things that had to be done for Crown and Country. For the Queen to be made aware of things, something must have gone terribly wrong.

Thomas pondered who leaked his operation as a steward emerged from the door, before closing it behind him. Turning to Thomas, the older man addressed him.

"Her Majesty will see you now."

Thomas nodded, and proceeded to enter the room, the Steward waiting outside and closing the door behind him. Before Thomas was Victoria herself, sitting on an ornate chair in what appeared to be a parlor. Having not met Victoria before, Mister Thomas looked the young woman up and down discreetly as he bowed. Physically and socially she wasn't much. She was barely 5 feet tall and tiny, a smallness offset slightly as her stomach bulged with her first child, roughly that of a 5-month old pregnancy. In addition, she just seemed so incredibly youthful, her eyes and expression teeming with inexperience. She was as uncomfortable as he. But Thomas didn't forget himself- this young woman was the most powerful person in the world. And while inexperience may fade away, poor impressions did not.

Finished bowing, Thomas began to speak. "Your Majesty, I am humbled by your invitation to Buckingham palace. So may I ask, to what do I owe the honor?" Thomas knew better, but social conventions demanded a certain etiquette.

Queen Victoria paused, a little nervous herself. Now while the Queen was learning how to run the empire better and better with each passing day, she knew very well who the man before her was, and did not find him agreeable. He was a deniable asset, a man who existed to run the Empire's dirty work. She was hardly naïve enough to think that things could the Empire could survive without men like him, but she preferred to not deal with them. But her intentions had to be made clear.

"Yes, Mister Thomas. I have invited you because wind of your operation in Arendal has reached my ears. And if it's reached my ears, it may have reached others. And as you were a veteran of Napoleon's war, I thought that you would be very aware of the consequences of regicide."

Thomas opened his mouth to speak, pausing for a moment with a look of contemplation before finally speaking. "Your Majesty, I take my duties very seriously, as I do the consequences of them. In this case, as long as Queen Elsa lives, she poses a threat to the fragile peace that so many died to build."

Increasing the sternness in her tone, Victoria rebutted. "Mister Thomas, I understand your dedication to your work. And I do not doubt your loyalty. But I will not condone regicide, in any form. You are to cease any further action to kill Queen Elsa."

Mister Thomas' face twisted into as much of a scowl as society would allow when in a meeting with royalty, before he spoke. "Your Majesty, but what will we do then?"

Queen Victoria paused thinking on her feet, before dictating her will. "Well, as you already have made quite a mess in Arendal, perhaps we should send some vessels then. We will save Queen Elsa and take her back to England. While here, I am sure that we can arrange a suitable marriage that restores normalcy. Especially if she desires an army to retake her homeland. That way she is controlled, and no royal blood needs to be shed. Yes, that'll do quite nicely."

"Is that your command your Majesty?"

"Yes. I will inform the Prime Minister, and he will inform you of the details. Farewell, Mister Thomas."

Thomas bowed and turned to leave, as his brain filled with a thought.

_That did not go as badly as I thought. She's clever, more so than I thought. And considering I'm not in a cell, she at least is wise enough to know men like me need to exist. She's still rather naïve, but she'll learn. And I think one day, Queen Victoria will be a fine monarch._

…

Royal Northern Highway, Arendal

Siegfried Krupp watched the Loyalist army trudge northwards through the snow and mud from an over watch position, with his rifle at the ready for any threat that presented itself. He had been behind the cover for at least an hour now, with little to occupy himself with as the army only entered his cover within the last minute or so. Especially since he no longer had a partner to converse with, after Heinrich turned out to be Eva.

He wondered how the undercover woman was doing, the last he heard she had gotten a pardon from the Queen, and was now a civilian scout.

_Good for her._

As for him, well things had become complicated since the First Great Freeze. Which was presenting itself in the form of an officer scurrying up to his position.

"Lieutenant!" The man whispered harshly. "What are you doing up here? I need you to coordinate your men, not be another rifleman!"

Once again, he looked over and was still a little unused by the Officer shoulder boards that sat on his shoulders. He gave a short single laugh, before turning to the superior officer beneath him.

"Don't you worry Captain. My boys know where to shoot. And if need be, they know where I'm at to receive orders."

"They better, Lieutenant. This ambush is counting on your men being effective. God be with you."

With that, the officer moved back down the hill, where a large number of rebel soldiers sat quietly in wait, ready for the first shots to be fired. That was their que to then execute a sweeping flank to hit the loyalists.

And that was another thing he was unused to, the large cross stitched into his uniform, both on the green tunic and the white parka that allowed him to blend into the snowy hills. It was an odd thing really. He never viewed himself as particularly religious, but his family was up north, as was many of the lads of his Company. And when he was informed that his younger brothers had been pressed into service, well, he couldn't turn his rifle on his own family, could he?

But yet, he didn't feel angry or forced at the Christians, either. After all, many of them were just good folks trying to protect their homes and end the winter. He was numb to all of the politics now, the 'Good' Major and the Ice Queen had drawn their battle lines, and he found himself on the 'crusader' side of it all. Nothing more.

He sighed and focused on the coming battle now. Any moment, the Loyalist flankers would run into their pickets and the fight would begin. With his rifle, the enemy was well within range and in the open, even if they were hundreds of yards away. They would put up a good fight, but they were in bad ground and about to get flanked on both sides. The battle had already been decided.

Before long, gunshots were heard. Siegfried sighed, cocked the hammer on his rifle back and aimed. There was killing to be done.

…

Bit of Notes

Well, as of the 15th of May, my terminal-leave ends and I leave the active duty Army, beginning my time in the Army National Guard. This represents the beginning of a new chapter in my life, as well as that of my fanfiction writing. As school doesn't start until September, I should have plenty of time to write, if I don't get a summer job for some extra income. Not only that, but it gives me time to work on other hobbies, which I may post assuming they ever see the light of day. Either way, I'm feeling pretty good having finally returned to civie street.

O7,

Dragunov


	19. Chapter 19- History and Dogma

July 30th, 1840

Royal Palace, Arendal

Elsa sat at her desk, staring blankly at the parchment before her. On it was a long list of orders and commands, all involving turning Arendal into a police state.

_A temporary police state, Elsa reminded herself mentally. _

It wasn't a terribly bad bill, in all honesty. It effectively put Widstrom in charge of a large paramilitary force involving the Police, Auxiliaries, and some other small armed groups, mostly mercenaries. And with this small Army, Arendal would be garrisoned and locked down as searches would comb the city for those who would side with the Crusaders or other groups. The Army and the Royal Guard would still be completely hers, as would the final say on any judgement of any cases of treason or similar activities.

Elsa knew better than to trust Widstrom, so she didn't. But she had no other choice, and this act gave the over-zealous attack dog little power over her. After all, the Royal Guard was more than a match for the police, and the thought of Widstrom's 'personal' thugs standing against the elite of Arendal's Army was laughable. Didn't make the situation feel any better.

But she had no real alternative. Arendal was facing crisis, and she didn't need the city erupting into chaos with the enemy at the gates. This had to be done.

"Now, while I understand we are facing crisis, Minister, it is imperative we do not become tyrants."

"Of course your Majesty." While the police official stood in a respectful manner, Elsa could see the gleam in his eyes that were the same as a dog eager to be unleashed on wild game.

"If I hear of one case of undue brutality, It'll be you before the courts. Am I understood?"

"Yes, your Majesty."

Elsa sighed, signing the parchment, before passing it off to Widstrom with a hint of disgust. He bowed upon receiving the signed orders, before turning to leave and exiting the small office. Elsa, her anxiety knowing at her, could only pray she had not blundered.

_Dear god, I hope I didn't miss anything._

…

Wilderness, 20 miles north of Arendal

Frikron sat uneasily upon his horse, surveying the aftermath of the battle that had begun the night before, ending just a few hours after dawn when the last holdout of Royalist forces was overrun. The end result of the battle laid before the rebel lieutenant, as the bodies of both rebel and loyalist forces lay in the snow, scattered as far as the eye could see. Due to the light snowfall that had begun during the night, however, Frikron figured before long the dead would be covered in a sheet of snow, as if Elsa herself was burying her fallen soldiers.

To Frikron, the only victory that could be claimed in that the road to Arendal was now open. Despite the ambush, the rebel soldiers with their ranks swollen with fresh and unready recruits suffered heavy casualties securing the field of battle. While they had the numbers to replace them, morale had taken a serious blow as many realized that god was not simply going to hand them victory without price.

_Perhaps god denies us aid because we don't actually fight for his angel, or his chosen one._

A moment passed in the heavy silence of winter, before a familiar presence approached on horseback. The monster had come to view her handiwork.

Frikron turned to glance at the undead _thing, _clad in her mask and hood as always, except now that Frikron had seen what was beneath, that's all he could ever see.

"What's the matter, Frikron? Your glorious soldiers of God have won the day. Arendal is yours for the taking. Your crusade is about to triumph, why so gloom?" Her voice was heavy with sarcasm, to the point of smugness.

"But are we? I doubt you truly wish this army to succeed."

"And why do you think that, Frikron?"

"Because you're a Draugr."

"And? My status as an undead monster doesn't change my faith, or influence my motivations, Frikron."

"If you were a good Christian, when you passed your soul would have gone to Jesus. Only the wicked return as undead." Even Frikron found the words coming out of his mouth hollow. But it was all he had ever known.

"Wrong!" Ásta began in an exaggerated, playful manner. "A Draugr is created when someone with a strong enough will is slain in a high magic infused area while they have unfinished business to attend to. And that's exactly what I have to do to return to death. To people not native of Scandinavia, they are called revenant. The Draugr's religion has nothing to do with it."

"Alright, what's you 'unfinished business' then?"

The Draugr gave Frikron a glare. "That's for me to know, and you to find out." She paused, thinking for a moment before continuing. "But to answer your question, no I am not a Christian."

"Then why do all of this? Why raise a crusade?"

Ásta paused, gathering her words, before speaking. "Do you see all of those men, the ones in the white coats lying dead all up and down this road?"

"Yes, yes I do."

"What makes them special?"

"They're dead?"

"No shit. So are the Royalist soldiers. But what makes the crusaders special?"

"I don't know."

"Every one of those men in a white coat, living or dead, was and are willing to die for their belief in Christianity. It may not be their primary reason, but every one of them was willing to fight in a crusade. Now, if one were to wish to return Arendal to its native religion, who do you think would have risen up and stopped them?"

"My god, you're leading them to slaughter! But why, you're unkillable!"

"It's not only about that. In order for people to return to the religion of their ancestors, they first must reject Christ. And when the people of Arendal see how 'our' soldiers show the Sami and Pagan peoples 'God's love', I feel that Christianity will suddenly be a whole lot less popular."

"What is fucking wrong with you? You're brainwashing Christians to kill your own people just to get more converts?"

Ásta's voice became sharp and severe, laced with anger. "I can't brainwash someone! If I could, you'd think I'd do this? I'd simply convert you all! Every evil committed by this army came from this army, not from me. I may have loosened inhibitions, thrown around an illusion or two, but no more. This darkness was already in their hearts. It's always been there. You ask what is wrong with me? A few mind games is all it took for you to tear each other apart. What is wrong with _you_!?" She returned to a calm state, continuing to explain herself, though her voice was filled with disgust.

"I remember when they first came. I remember how our Kings sold their souls to Christ, and then ordered their soldiers to convert the masses at sword point. I remember when the German mercenaries came when some dared to fight back. I've seen the true heart of Christianity. It's a religion for sheep, for slaves. A thousand years of it is long enough."

Frikron sat quietly, a little shamed because he knew she was right. Most of his colleagues had always grumbled about the religious minorities, perhaps this was what really lie in their hearts. After a minute, he softly asked "Is this the rabbit hole you promised?"

Ásta smiled wickedly. "My dear Frikron, we have but merely begun."

…

Rønne, Principality of Bornholm

Mister Adkins groaned softly as he was led into the throne room, irritated that his mission had led him to this obscure corner of Scandinavia. A few days before he had been given a surprise assignment, one that was effectively undoing the work he and his colleague Mister Thomas had carried out. Simply put, he was to take a quick tour of the Scandinavian-Baltic Region and try to raise support for the besieged Queen Elsa.

So far, little was being promised. Norway, despite having an independent military, fell back on the excuse that 'foreign policy matters' were in the hands of the Swedes. However, the diplomat's spies told him that Norwegian volunteers were being armed and sent across the border in an attempt to see to it that Norwegian lands lost to Arendal in the Napoleonic Wars were returned. This which would of course occur once the "illegality" of the Crusader regime could be used as justification. All in all, Oslo was a dead end.

Then came Denmark and the Southern Isles. Adkins knew that Denmark would be a waste of time, though he still had to go. Between the pre-emptive sinking of the whole Danish fleet and the turnover of much of its lands to England's and Prussia's allies in the region, Denmark had little love for John Bull. So it was no surprise that the Danes outright refused him.

The Southern Isles was next, and things went well, at least if you were supportive of Arendal. King Frederick wasted no time giving the orders to mobilize the Army and Navy for a relief campaign. This was all well and good, but the resurgent winter in Arendal had made the Seas uneasy, and Frederick did warn the ambassador that it would at least be a week before the first Regiment was ready to go overseas.

So at least in his head, while this whole trip was little success, he was quite pleased. Denmark and Norway were unwilling and the Southern Isles would likely send too little, too late. After this stop was Corona, which would have to ask the Prussians for permission and thus delay them and Sweden, which was not going to send troops to save the first real threat to Sweden's hegemony of Scandinavia.

But he was still here in Bornholm, which was tedious to the Diplomat. As no matter which outcome one wished for the mission, Bornholm was a waste of time.

Bornholm was a small Island to the south of Sweden and west of Denmark which only retained its independence to provide a demilitarized zone between Denmark and Sweden. It was simpler to give it independence than it was to mediate negotiations between the two nations. What this meant was that both of the two nations with claim to the island exerted pressure on the island to ensure that the island stayed neutral and weak so any "reoccupation" would be quick and bloodless. The new Royalty of the island took the situation and ran with it, their official policy being collaboration with whatever side took the island. So they didn't need a large army.

In fact, the only military force available to the Bornholm royal family was the Prince's Household Guard, nothing more. That is, if didn't one count the constables who policed the island, armed mostly with clubs. Hence why Bornholm was a waste of a stop. But Adkins still had to go through the motions.

"Your Highness, I humbled by your gracious decision to see me right away. I come with urgent business."

Now whereas Adkins was irritated by all of this, Prince Ludwig was enjoying this immensely. The young, handsome ruler of the sleepy Principality had been raised to the throne at a very young age. Only 17 when his father died, any hope for a bachelor lifestyle ended then and there. Now 19, he looked forward to any excitement to spice up his daily routine.

So it was without question that the phrase 'Urgent business' piqued the curiosity of the young man even more than the request of audience of an envoy of the British Empire. "Please, Ambassador Adkins, do continue."

"Very well, your highness. As we speak an army of anti-royalists assails your Northern neighbor Arendal. Queen Victoria naturally sees any regicidal force as an aberration, especially this close to Britain. As such it would please her greatly if you could offer any aid to Arendal."

The envoy was so used to going through the paces he didn't see Ludwigs' blond eyebrows raise and his mouth grin in excitement, before speaking. "Of course, Ambassador Adkins. I and my Royal Guard will depart at once."

Adkins, expecting the answer to be no was quite puzzled by the response. "Come again, your highness?"

"Queen Victoria wants troops to fight in Arendal, and troops she shall have. I have no army to send but my guard and myself. So I will go."

Adkins was tempted to try to talk the young man down, before stopping. After all, who was he to care if the young Prince had a death wish? "Very well, your Highness. Best of luck in Arendal."

…

Royal Palace, Arendal

With the death of so many civil servants it was unconceivable that the Queen and the Crown Princess would not pay their respects, especially since a number of the dead were heads of ministries and senior officers. So both Elsa and Anna spent most of the day attending back-to-back memorial services within the castle gates (for security reasons, of course), only when night fell did they get a chance to attend the pressing business they were desperate to carry out.

The day prior they had uncovered a possible name of the Draugr and had wished to ask Grandpabbie about it. Then the bombing occurred, casting everything into chaos. Chaos still reigned, but the security crisis had been addressed. And while it wasn't official, to Elsa and Anna the Draugr was a greater threat. So now they finally visited Grandpabbie.

"Your Majesty, it is good to see you again. How can I help you?"

"Grandpabbie, we need your knowledge. Have you heard of a Queen Ásta?"

Grandpabbie paused, a shiver overcoming the elderly rock troll. Anna nudged Elsa, before whispering. "That's not a good sign…" Elsa shushed her.

Grandpabbie struggled to find the proper words, before explaining. "You Majesty, that is not a name I have heard in a long time. Not since I was a youngling, learning the history of our land."

A little blush from embarrassment, Anna asked the question she knew Elsa was too polite to ask. "You weren't alive back then? I'm sorry but I don't know anything about Troll lifespans."

Grandpabbie chuckled, as if he were explaining to a child common knowledge. "No, your highness, that was over a thousand years ago. We live long lives, but not that long. Even the oldest rock trolls alive when I was a child were not born when Ásta reigned, nor did any troll they knew."

"Well," Anna interjected "What do you know?"

"When I was a child, even before it was decided I was to learn the shaman path, I was told the long history of our land. Nothing too deep, and certainly nothing involving the memory crystals, but an overview. Part of that history was the Christianization of Arendal." He sighed, recalling a bitter history. "This was important as when Arendal converted, we as a people had to hide. But during that time, two reigns in particular stood out: that of Queen Ásta, and her usurper Queen Frida."

"How did it stand out?"

"Well, it stood out because there was a great terrible winter that lasted years, along with nearly constant fighting between the Christians and traditionalists, led by Ásta. Eventually, the followers of the old ways were driven to the mountains, where they made a last stand. After a battle that lasted days and killed almost all the nobility on both sides, Queen Ásta was killed by unknown shield maiden named Frida. With Queen Ásta dead and both sides devastated, the heathen army surrendered and the shield maiden was crowned and baptized as Queen Frida the Spring-giver, which as you both may know, was the first of your dynasty. Shortly after, the long winter ended and peace returned to Arendal."

Elsa's eye's gleamed as she recalled the story of the founding of Arendal. "Yes, and because the Heathen army never was beaten, Queen Frida created a law ensuring that Arendal would always grant freedom of religion, which lasts until this very day." Even in these dark times, Elsa did love history.

"Wait, then how come we never heard about Ásta before, if she was a major player in Arendal's founding?"

"I don't know, Anna." Elsa shrugged, before expanding on her thought. "In the books given to me, there was never mention of powers like mine, and the Heathen Army was almost always referred to as a single entity, with little regards to its leadership. It's possible she was in the books, but I glossed over it as it was a name of little note."

"In any case your Majesty, it is possible that she was a sorceress, like you."

"It's possible?"

Grandpabbie sighed. "If I had a memory crystal from that time, I could literally have shown you her past and the truth of the matter. But she destroyed it all, which tells me she was quite familiar with us and our powers. Which leads me to believe that she knew of magic. This, and the fact that the Great Winter overlapped her rule leads me to believe she was a Snow Queen."

"Then why hasn't she done more Snow Queen stuff now that she's back?"

Grandpabbie frowned and shook his head. "Magic is not truly a skill as it's a part of you, as your sister the Queen can attest to. Simply put, when Ásta died, all of that magic would have left her and dissipated. Likely eventually finding its way into Elsa."

Elsa grew pale. "I don't like the sound of that."

"You shouldn't. It is possible that the reason Ásta desires to kill Elsa is that if she did, Elsa's magic would almost certainly flow in Ásta, as that power would not have forgotten her. In short, with both the powers of the Draugr as well as that of a Snow Queen, Ásta would be unstoppable."

…

Royal Hospital, Arendal

For over twenty-four hours General Wilhelmsen laid unconscious, taking the shallow breaths of sleep. Heavily burned and battered, the Doctors were worried of course, but privately agreed it may be best this way, as he was not suffering and his chances of survival were not high. Not low, but not high either. As the two sisters retired for the day with the knowledge that their foe may have been a sorceress, that all changed.

Wilhelmsen awoke with a gasp, as his instinctual first deep breath upon waking encountered the severely bruised and fractured ribs, courtesy of being slammed into a wall from the explosion. The extent of his wounds quickly horrified the old soldier, as he was knocked out instantly by the blast the previous day, but he fought through the shock, as he dared not go unconscious again.

"Nurse!" He struggled to get out, gritting his teeth.

Within a minute, an older woman approached his bedside, a seasoned nurse of many winters. "Yes General?"

"Get Queen Elsa here _now. _The fate of the country depends on it!"

…

Bit of Notes

Long time no see. I do apologize, but when Hearts of Iron 4 came out it pretty much ended any progress I had going for about a month straight. After that it was Annual Training and the birth of my niece, so I neglected fanfiction.

In any case, I hope you all enjoy my much belated chapter.

The hammer is about to drop.

O7,

Dragunov


	20. Chapter 20- The Hammer Falls

"…and here… we… go!"

-The Joker, The Dark Knight

July 30th, 1840

Royal Palace, Arendal

Both Elsa and Anna sat in the throne room, both still in their mourning clothes as they never had a chance to change, neither after the memorial services, nor after their visit with Grandpabbie. And with the news presented them, there hardly was a more appropriate attire.

What remained of Arendal's military high command was assembled in the room, the senior of which was the sole Colonel amongst them, Colonel Marcks. This evening, he was the bearer of bad news, news that the old man delivered coolly and professionally. He had seen worse, after all. Unfortunately, he was about the only officer in the room not panicking.

"I regret to inform you that our force sent north was ambushed and defeated on the Royal Highway, your Majesty."

Elsa, for once thankful of the thirteen years of learning to conceal her emotions, kept a stoic face even as her heart raced with fear. "And what of the Army itself? And Colonel Spalter?"

"The army itself was broken and destroyed, your Majesty. And we have not heard of or from Spalter since he sent his report as soon as he was ambushed."

"Your Majesty!" It was Widstrom, recently emboldened by the declaration of Martial law. "Perhaps it's possible that Spalter is a traitor who lead his men into an ambush. Perhaps I should bring in his family for questioning- "

In an instant, the normally cool Marcks threw his gloves down in in anger, before unleashing his fury. "I will not have you- a bureaucrat, challenge the honor and loyalty of a friend, soldier and fellow officer! How dare you, you opportunistic rat!"

"I would tread carefully, Colonel. For I could easily charge you with obstruction of justice, as well as treason itself. After all, you do seem oddly defensive about a possible suspect."

Elsa, frightened by Widstrom's quick turn dark, moved to correct him at once. "Widstrom, this is hardly the manner of investigation that I asked for when I granted you emergency powers this morning. I will not have my officers looking over their backs in fear because of a groundless witch-hunt!"

Widstrom looked taken aback, surprised that the normally passive Queen would react so fiercely to his aggressive tactics. Stunned but bitter, he retired from the forefront. Elsa, content for the moment, turned back to Marcks. "Proceed Colonel."

Reeling back his previous anger, the still bothered Colonel continued his report, respectively. "Yes, your Majesty. Unfortunately, only a handful of men have straggled in from the defeated army, totaling a little over one hundred men."

Elsa's poker face cracked, showing a good bit of fear. "So what forces do we have to defend Arendal?"

Colonel Marcks shifted his weight about his feet, recalling all of the regular army forces under his direct command before reporting to the Queen. "Your Majesty, of the regular army we have one battalion of Royal Grenadiers, with one company of Fjelljeger riflemen. In addition, I may have enough cadre of Grenadier and Fjelljeger troops to create a battalion from scratch. If we use every uniformed serviceman in the city, I am certain. My other colleagues will refer to their forces."

The ranking Landwehr officer, a Major by the name of Bjornsen, stepped forward. Unexpectedly, he turned to the worried but silent Anna. "Your Highness, the Landwehr possesses two understrength Battalions of Infantry. With your orders, we can- "

Elsa raised her hand, cutting the Major off. "Excuse me Major, but _I_ bear the burden of Arendal's defense, not the Crown Princess."

"Forgive me, your Majesty. But I was given orders that the Crown Princess would be carrying out her constitutional duties, of which includes being the commander of the Landwehr as well as any other reserve forces of Arendal's army."

Elsa was taken aback, as she remembered giving out that order having forgotten the heir to the throne's military role. Slightly embarrassed, she moved to rectify her mistake. "I do apologize, Major Bjornsen. But- "

Anna surprised Elsa by quickly interjecting her, causing quite a murmur amongst the gathered officers. "But the Queen merely wishes to remain in the loop regarding the Landwehr in the future, when it comes to written reports. Please do continue." Finished, Anna gave Elsa a look, one that said _Trust me, I'll explain later. _Still little annoyed that Anna stepped on her toes, she nonetheless played along.

"Yes, indeed. Please continue your report to Princess Anna."

"As you wish, your Majesty. As I was saying, we currently possess two understrength battalions of infantry. With your permission, I'd to begin conscripting any military aged males within the city to reinforce our existing two battalions, as well as Colonel Marcks' forces. And if recruits remain, perhaps form a new battalion from scratch."

As regally as possible, Anna nodded and replied. "I see, thank you Major. I'll consider my options and get back to you."

"Thank you your Highness."

The last man, a naval officer stepped forward with the final report. "Your Majesty, with the Navy out on maneuvers, we only possess a battery of Coastal Artillery as well as a single company of Naval Infantry assigned to garrison the docks. In addition, I have about one hundred and fifty men of various non-essential postings that I am willing to give to my Army comrades to fill holes in battalions, if need be."

"So what does that leave us with to defend the city, Colonel?"

"If we kind find the personnel to create a battalion from scratch, and bring our others up to strength, that gives us four battalions of infantry, a company of sharpshooters, and a battery of coastal artillery. In short, around twelve hundred soldiers, with eight heavy cannon."

Elsa took a moment to take a mental note, before asking a question she knew she wasn't going to like the answer to. "And what does the enemy have?"

"Your Majesty, I do not know their exact numbers. Enemy deserters point the number of being around three thousand, with more arriving every day. Most of this is poorly trained volunteers, but they have a sizeable number of Dragoons, sharpshooters, and Landwehr bolstering their ranks. In addition, the bulk of the rebels from the southwest have shifted their forces here, in what appears to be an alliance. As for artillery, we only know that they possess it. Our cannon crews do assure us that they spiked their own guns before retreating, so the enemy will not be able to turn our own guns against us."

Elsa forced herself to stay calm, even as it felt like her heart was being grasped by icy fingers. Arendal was by no means a fortress city, and they were hopelessly outnumbered by a fanatical enemy that would not show mercy to her, nor Anna.

And worst of all, was how her officers looked at her. They too knew the hopelessness of the situation, and looked at Elsa to deliver them. And not solely because of her powers, either. She had seen this look before, except then it was aimed at a different person.

Her father.

The great hero of the Napoleonic wars that he was, every time Arendal faced a crisis they looked to him. And now that he was gone, they looked to her, as if the fact she bore his blood would give her the power to fix this. The proposition of this may have made these men laugh mere days before, but now these men needed a savior.

But Elsa was not her father. She wasn't even sure she _wanted _to be her father now. She had not let recent events cause her to forget her father's actions. Agnarr might have been a great commander and fighter, but his hands were as stained with blood as the worst of them. And if that was the price Elsa needed to pay, well, she'd rather die a hero.

"Gentlemen, prepare your forces as best as you can. I and the Crown Princess will discuss our strategy now, and get back to you tomorrow morning. Farewell."

The gathered men nodded, bowed and left the room in relative silence, with only a few murmuring with their peers about how best to carry out their task. Soon, Elsa and Anna were alone, with an awkward silence between them. Anna was the first to move after close to a minute.

"Now Elsa, I know what you are thinking-"

"Anna, what are you thinking!? This is not your burden. This is mine, and mine alone!"

"Elsa, we've discussed this already. You don't have to do everything alone; I can help you!"

"No Anna, not with this. The strategies I choose, the orders I give… soldiers will die because of them. Real people, with lives and families. I don't want their blood on your hands."

"No Elsa, their blood won't be on my hands, nor on yours. They will be on the fanatics who came to _kill _us. We didn't ask for this fight, Elsa. They want to kill you just because of who you are, and they are willing to burn Arendal to the ground just to get to you and me."

Elsa began to gently cry, causing Anna to leap from her throne and move to Elsa and embrace her, immediately switching to a light, jesting tone to bring some levity to the situation.

"Besides, technically I don't have any real power anyways. Any policy I make can be overruled by you… Commander in Chief."

Elsa chuckled briefly at Anna's attempt to lighten the mood, before looking up. "Anna… do you really think we can win?"

Anna smiled with her best brave face. "Of course we can. If we're half the people that mama and papa were, the rebels stand no chance."

Elsa cringed, drawing Anna's attention.

"Elsa, what's wrong?"

"Anna, what father did…"

"Yes, he wasn't perfect, and he certainly wasn't an angel. But he loved us, and I'm certain everything he did, he did for a reason. And I like to think that whoever Papa was in Germany, that man died before we were born."

Elsa nodded, before glancing at the clock. "Anna, it's late. We need to get some rest."

As the two sisters embrace one last time for the night, Anna's last words chilled Elsa.

…_he did for a reason._

Elsa looked over at Anna, as it occurred to her that while she had no problem dying a hero, she could not fathom what she would do to save Anna.

_Perhaps that is why father did what he did._

…

Queen's Own Guard Dayroom

Royal Palace, Arendal

Dieter quietly sat in the dayroom, winding himself down after having pulled guard during the tumultuous events of the previous twelve hours before going to bed. As he was nursing his beer, a nurse entered the room, looking out of breath.

"Is this the Queen's Personal Guard?"

Dieter looked around, finding himself the only man in the room at the moment. "Yes?"

"I come with news from the hospital, sir. General Wilhelmsen is awake, and has requested Elsa's presence at once."

Before Dieter could respond, Sergeant Hvitstrom emerged from his office, his curiosity piqued. "Did you say General Wilhelmsen?"

"Yes sir. I know it's late, but there is no guarantee of recovery. Therefore, it's best if Her Majesty speaks to the General sooner, rather than later."

"I see. Thank you, you are dismissed."

The Nurse bowed her head and left. Dieter, buttoned his tunic, expecting action. "Are we going to wake the Queen, Sergeant?"

The middle aged man stood for a moment, his face blank, before deciding on a course of action. With a tired, world weary tone he replied to Dieter, almost sorrowfully. "Yes, son. Let's go wake the Queen."

…

July 31st, 1840

Royal Bedchambers, Royal Palace

Anna had wasted no time in falling asleep, having stripped out of her black mourning clothes and passed out almost as soon as she wormed her way beneath the covers. Having fallen into a deep lull of sleep, the hours passed as a mere blink of an eye from Anna's perspective until a somewhat familiar voice woke her up.

"Anna, wake up!"

Anna shot up, hardly awake. It was a well-known fact that it took Anna at least an hour of padding between her awakening and the first event of the day, and that's assuming it wasn't a casual event. "Yes?"

The ancient Norse Queen stood in the room, unsure whether to be annoyed or impressed that the Princess reacted to a supernatural haunting with such indifference. "Anna… hello?"

Anna slowly turned her gaze towards the specter, before flinching in surprise. "Gah! You're back? I thought that was a one-time thing?"

"I'm afraid not, Anna. I have always stood watch over my dynasty, especially when the line's survival itself stood in peril."

"Your dynasty… holy crap, your Queen Frida!"

The spirit's spectral face recoiled, clearly shaken to her core. Confused, Anna asked in a low voice "Are you Okay?"

The Queen of Old looked up from her trembling hands, gazing upon Anna. "That name… my name… I have not heard in a long time. I had all but forgotten it."

"How can you forget your own name? That's pretty crazy, if you ask me."

"Child I have been on a mission for almost a millennium. You'd be surprised what you lose and forget. Sometimes, you can lose the most important parts of you." She chuckled, her face warm with concern. "Especially with you coming into the picture."

"What's so special about me?"

"Everything Anna. For a thousand years, my spirit waited for its chance at rebirth. I waited, until a little over eighteen years ago. And when you were born, much of me went into you. You've always had the spirit of a hero, Anna. And when you are ready, the last of me will finally enter _Folkvangr_ and find peace. For Arendal will have a new guardian to protect it."

Anna shook her head. "But why me? Elsa's so much more powerful than me."

Frida's face turned into a scowl. "No. The Snow Queen may be powerful, but the strength of a hero triumph's all. Even magic, even a Draugr."

"A Draugr? But how hell am I going to fight a Draugr?"

The spirit smiled slyly. "Use a hero's strength, Anna."

The spirit began to fade, before it developed a slightly panicked look on her face, as if it was suddenly startled. "I sense great danger to you Anna. You must leave, and you must leave now!"

And with that, the spirit was gone. Anna was always unnerved when she met the spirit, considering her likeness to the long dead Queen. It was, after all like watching her own self controlled by someone else. But the spirit's last message, left her chilled to the bone.

_What should I do?_

…

As for Elsa, she had her own troubles with sleep. The quandary of what terrors she would do to protect Anna terrified her, and it wasn't until well after midnight until she finally fell asleep. Even then, nightmares plagued her.

Elsa found herself in Germany once again, just like the other night. Again, there was her father on horseback, overseeing an ambush long since over. All around, French soldiers lay dead, and the wagon train they were protecting ransacked and ruined. Before long, some Freikorps soldiers dragged a number of civilians before Agnarr, throwing them down before her.

"We found these hiding in the carriages, sir. I believe they're collaborators. What do you want done with them?"

Agnarr smiled, before turning to another Freikorps soldier. "That's another thing to know, _kammerad_. Never let anyone survive an ambush, lest they lead the enemy to you."

"Papa?" A young Anna ran right in front of Elsa. Wearing little but rags but a few steps in front of her, positioned almost perfectly between Agnarr and where Elsa sat.

Agnarr paused in horror, unsure of what to do in front of the young innocent child. As he internally debated what to do, his second in command turned to him. "Sir, what should we do with them?"

A few veterans, knowing what was to be done normally, cocked their muskets and stepped into firing positions. Agnarr sat silently before raising his hand as if preparing to fire.

Elsa stood, shouting as loud as she could. "No, don't do it! Don't kill them papa! Not in front of her!"

Agnarr turned his head, almost as if he heard Elsa. Keeping his arm raised, the young guerrilla leader closed his eyes and sighed, before turning his hand into a fist and gently letting it down, signaling to his men to stand down. At once his Lieutenant turned about in confusion. "Sir?"

"Let them go. The war is all but over anyways, with what happened in Russia. And we must not teach the little ones our brutality, can we?"

"Yes sir, as you wish." The Freikorps officer turned to the civilians, sternly shouting at them to disperse. Elsa sighed, collapsing onto her back before closing her eyes.

She paused but a moment, before she felt rain upon her. Opening her eyes, a wave of sensation slammed into her. She was suddenly in her father's uniform, soaked with rain and suffering a gunshot wound to her chest. As the pain pulsed in her chest from the wound, she looked about also taking in her new surroundings. It was the middle of a stormy night, the rain clouds blocking out the moon and stars as she lay on a wooden cart, helpless as she couldn't move. In front of her was a building engulfed in flames, and all about French soldiers were butchering the Freikorps.

The carnage was overwhelming, but before long a single scream pierced through it all. Elsa turned to look, where in a window was Anna, still a child. Debris had blocked it off, leaving a hole just big enough for Anna to stick her head through.

"Elsa, help! I can't get out!"

"Anna!" Elsa screamed, thrashing about in an attempt to get up. But it did no good. Before long a handful of Freikorps soldiers arrived, pulling the small cart away from the lost battle and to safety.

"No, forget about me, save Anna! Save her!"

"I'm sorry, sir, but we can't! There's no getting into the building, and we have to save you!"

Elsa lay helplessly as the cart pulled away, and Anna tried desperately to escape. Pulling her head back inside, the little girl stuck her arm out in an attempt to worm her way out, before a great crashing was heard as the building simply collapsed. Elsa could only watch and listen in horror as Anna gave a brief cry of terror before her scream abruptly stopped, and her little arm went limp.

…

Elsa's eyes flew open in horror, only to find that her nightmare was just beginning. For she awoke on a stone slab in the dungeon, with her hands encased in iron mitt shackles. She was oddly fully dressed in a dress similar to her coronation gown, indicating someone went through the trouble of dressing her for some reason.

Terrified of finding herself in the dungeons she was captive in merely weeks before, she desperately shook her chains in frustration.

That had some effect, as a rattling of keys was heard, before the cell door opened. Two men stepped inside, encased in darkness.

"Who are you, and what is the meaning of this!"

A lantern was lit, revealing the two men: Minister Widstrom and Sergeant Hvitstrom.

A sly demented grin on his face, Widstrom spoke first. "Good morning, your Majesty."

…

Bit of Notes-

And now the hammer has fallen, as I've been promising. It's all Climax from here on out, at long last. Now that Hans' Fate is on hiatus, I'm should hopefully be able to produce each chapter at a much quicker rate, especially since these sort of scenes has always been easier for me to write anyways.

Anyhow, a few things to address this chapter- Firstly, it has been made aware to me recently that in a canonical Frozen story, Elsa and Anna's father has officially been given as Agnarr, completely rustling the jimmies of my stories, as I've been going with an earlier translation of Agdar. And while I do a lot of questionable things over here, I do try to respect canon whenever possible while going along with my grim-dark version of Frozen. And while I will eventually re-upload better proofread and corrected versions of all my previous work, I'm more focused on producing new content. So for now, just roll with the retcon.

Secondly, in that same vein, I have also retconned the name of Arendal's ski troops to Fjelljeger from Gebirgsjager. Means pretty much the same thing except it's actually Norwegian. Landwehr is likely to remain in place for now as I like the sound of it, plus it's essentially was one of Agnarr's personal creations from his time in the Prussian military, so if it does change, it'll be a "in universe" change as opposed to a Retcon.

So, see y'all in a bit,

O7

Dragunov


	21. Chapter 21- Hide and Seek

July 31st, 1840

The Dungeons, Royal Palace

"Good morning, your Majesty."

Elsa sat on the stone bench, aware of her predicament but too muddled to truly take in her situation. She knew that she was betrayed, but after the initial shock of the nightmare and awakening in a dark unfamiliar place had faded, Elsa was overcome with severe drowsiness as well as queasiness in her stomach. As such, Elsa found it difficult to concentrate and could barely sit up straight before getting hit by a wave of nausea.

Even so, Elsa was furious.

"Widstrom, what is the meaning of-" Elsa stopped midsentence as wave of sickness hit her, before she coughed up and spit out some bile.

Widstrom meanwhile sat in the glow of the lantern, basking in the moment. Up to this point the 'young' minister had played his role very well, that of the young, fanatic attack dog, only to be paid for it in dividends. Now that his plot was revealed, he appeared as his true self. Gone was the good school boy look, now in his place was a cruel and self-centered young man, eager to cause pain with a deranged look in his eye.

Elsa slumped against the wall, attempting to stabilize herself to combat her vertigo, before lashing out. "What did you do to me, Widstrom?!"

"What's the matter, your Majesty? You don't appreciate the medicine I gave to help you sleep through your coming troubles?" He quipped, feeling clever. "I apparently didn't give you enough."

Elsa sat, taking the news in and attempting to process her situation, made ever so difficult by the drugs flowing through her blood. All she could see was Widstrom acting like a jackass, Sergeant Hvitstrom standing quietly behind him, in the stone room was the lantern in the corner that illuminated everything else.

Refocusing onto the unknown, Elsa asked "Sergeant Hvitstrom, why?"

The Sergeant simply returned a pained but resolute stare, as if she was a beloved family dog one had to put down. His gaze lingered for a few seconds, before he turned and left the room without a word.

"I guess he doesn't want to talk to you, Elsa." Widstrom's face turned to one of mocking taboo, his mouth open while holding a hand in front as if he was trying to block an obscenity, before grinning. "Ooh, that's right, I had _thought _had blundered, but there's no point to calling you by your title anymore, isn't there?"

Elsa responded with but a glare, her chains shifting being the only thing breaking the cold silence.

"I see, your polite enough to not devolve to snide remarks or pettiness. Now while many would find that remarkable, I don't. It only means you are trying to retain your precious high ground. It's always been about your chivalry and honor, as you tried to fool the world to regard you as something better than you are."

Widstrom shook his head, before coldly commenting. "You stupid inbred bitch, the only reason you're a Queen is because your ancestor had a good sword arm, and his children were good at backstabbing each other. Nothing more."

The traitor abruptly switched from the cold bitter tone he listed his grievances with to an upbeat, happy mood once again. "So, it's quite simple. I'm going to destroy this castle, hang every noble, then sell this place to the highest bidder. It'll be good fun."

Elsa scoffed. "So you're a revolutionary."

Widstrom laughed, slapping his thigh as his laughing died down and replied. "A revolutionary? God no! They are even bigger hypocrites than your lot is! I know that the strong will always prey on the weak. I just hate hypocritical cunts."

Elsa winced at the final foul word, it being far too vulgar for her taste. While Elsa had learned to tolerate words like bitch and bastard as it was inevitable for those words to slip out of a guardsmen's (or her sister's) mouth, this was a taboo even the saltiest of Guardsmen did not cross. Unfortunately, Widstrom took notice.

"Oh, you didn't like that did you- _cunt?_"

Elsa replied with a blank face, trying to keep composure. But needless to say, dealing with the uncertainty of a madman was not relaxing, especially with anxiety issues.

"Oh, I'm sorry. But I don't want this to be unfair Elsa. Go ahead call me a cunt. You'll feel better."

Elsa began to shake slightly, her logical mind debating whether or not to say the curse word, but every fiber of her being ingrained against it, she found it impossible even if she decided it wasn't a trap.

Widstrom smiled as his right hand began to hover over his belt, moving first to a knife. He slowly began to draw it watching Elsa's eyes widen with terror. Then suddenly he dropped the knife back into it's sheave, moving over to a Billy club he carried around as a call back to his youth on the police force.

"I'd hate to ruin that dress with cuts, after all. And besides, I'm confident in the staff's abilities to get stains out. Gerda did insist that you'd be dressed and I'd hate to step on her toes."

Elsa began to whimper, powerless. Whatever foulness that Widstrom gave her, it seemed to drain her of her powers as well as clouding her brain. Even still, she had difficulty thinking about anything other than the monster before her.

Taking the club to hand, Widstrom continued. "And there we go, your first steps to joining the rest of us from that mighty ice castle- showing weakness to a man you hold contempt for. But sadly, it's not what I asked for."

And with a blink of the eye, Widstrom swung his baton, striking her below the hip on the meaty part of her thigh. Elsa cried out, tears falling from her eyes openly now.

"Please, stop!"

"Not what I want. Mommy's charm classes won't help you now. Say it."

Again Widstrom struck, this time on Elsa's left thigh. Elsa rolled over, trying desperately to raise her hands as a make shift guard, but unlike her first visit, the chain was much shorter and the best she could manage was a few inches her lap.

Widstrom's mood had worsened, no longer calm but angry. "SAY IT! SAY THE FUCKING WORD!"

As he lifted his baton for a third blow, Elsa winced, her flight or fight instinct taking over as she whimpered. "Cunt."

Baton still raised, Widstrom threatened. "I didn't hear you, Elsa."

"Cunt!" Elsa blurted, before sobbing from the pain of her two heavily bruised thighs.

Widstrom lowered his baton, fixing it back onto his belt before straightening his posture and tugging his uniform jacket to a proper appearance. Once again jovial, he chirped once again. "See? That wasn't too difficult. The next won't be too difficult, I don't think. Men?"

A few mercenaries entered, one carrying a wooden bucket, the others escorting Gerda and another one of her bodyguards. Unlike the others, this one was shackled like a prisoner and disheveled like Gerda. Both Gerda and the guardsman were gagged, their muffling apparent as they were thrown to the floor.

"Careful with the Guardsman. I made a deal that he and the others wouldn't be harmed. And we still need to find Anna." Widstrom paused, before turning to Elsa. "Sorry about that, Elsa. Your next lesson will be much simpler. Thanks to the medicine I gave you, you will soon need to purge waste from your body. And you will do so in the bucket provided. After all, plenty a street rat doesn't have the luxury of a privy. See you later."

Widstrom signaled to his mercenaries, who nodded before shackling Gerda and the loyalist guardsman to the opposite wall, ungagging both before leaving the room. Widstrom smiled before placing the bucket just barely within the reach of her encased hands.

"Oh, and have fun figuring out how to use the privy without using your hands. And before you think of getting cute with your magic… Nils!"

A Mercenary outside the cell stepped in and replied "Yes Sir?"

"If you see as much of a coat of frost appearing to freeze her shackles, shoot her dead. Understood?"

The mercenary smiled. "Yes sir."

"Have fun, Elsa."

And then Widstrom was gone.

A few seconds of silence occurred, as Elsa still tearing up from her beating looked for something to do. This and curiosity forced her to study the Guardsman before her, before long recognizing him.

"You're the new recruit, the one I decorated two weeks ago, aren't you?"

The Guardsman looked up, his eyes wrought with worry and fatigue. "Y-yes, your Majesty."

Elsa relaxed a little, "Dieter, was it?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. Corporal Dieter Eriksen."

Elsa thought for a moment, before continuing. "I'm guessing you're in here because you didn't play along with the others' treason, then?"

"Yes, your Majesty. Myself along with Sergeant Hans and Lance Corporal Bjorn woke up in a cell together. The last thing I remember was going to wake you with Sergeant Hvitstrom. I guess he cold-cocked me from behind…"

Elsa nodded. "Thank you, Dieter. And please, call me Elsa. If you're willing to lay down your life for me, you deserve to address me as a regular woman."

Dieter looked at his charge oddly, as for months he'd had it drilled into him that anyone above him was to be referred to with a title. "I'll try… Elsa." It felt wrong the second it came out of his mouth.

Elsa sat, raising her shackled hands gently in an attempt to wiped her tear streamed face, before letting them drop in futility. "There's no hope, is there?"

Dieter begun to shake as he bowed his head, his hands grasping his hair in anxiety. He knew that the Queen's Own was never questioned with regards to the security of the Royal Family, and it was an established protocol to lock down the dungeon after moving the Royalty there. This combined with the sound muffling properties meant that it'd be hours if not days before they were discovered. Even then, all of the hostages would likely die before any rescuers could arrive.

They were as good as dead.

His failure as a guardsman crushed him, causing the young man to begin softly sobbing. Overviewing the situation was the Senior maid, Gerda. Ironically, at least as professions were concerned, she was the calmest person in the room. Watching the young queen she helped raised and the soldier sworn to protect them both despair, Gerda's faced twisted to one of mild disapproval. She had work to do.

"Hush now children. I am sure that everything will turn out fine. Stay calm, and we'll make it through."

Elsa looked at her with disbelief. "How can you know?"

Gerda smiled. "I've been through worse."

Dieter looked her skeptically. "What could be worse than this?" He scoffed.

Gerda's smiled was replaced with a scowl. "More than you could know, dear. You wouldn't believe me, anyways."

Elsa, having heard a number of rumors about the old maid over the year, wanted clarification. "Try us."

Gerda slumped back against the cool cell wall. "When I was but a young girl, my childhood friend was taken from me. I travelled hundreds of miles, through a terrible winter to get him back. I faced the Snow Queen, dear. And I survived. All of this before I became a woman."

"That's quite impressive, Gerda. But you've told me reassuring stories before" Elsa retorted.

Gerda slyly grinned. "Just ask Kai. He should know, I rescued him."

The two looked at Gerda a little appreciative of the unassuming elderly woman with a little bit more appreciative, though unsure of whether it was for her poker face or her toughness. Either way, the room was filled with silence once more.

…

The Royal Family's suite, Royal Palace

Anna carefully shifted her body as she lay up by the rafters, a few feet above her bedroom. The spot was an old favorite 'escape' route for the young princess, except now it was being used to actually save her life instead of merely facilitate her 'adventures.' The first moments she crawled up there were wonderfully exciting, which soon faded to monotonous boredom as Anna waited for hours to see if anything happens.

She had a good view of the room, which was perfect, as she wanted to know what was going on. Before long, the latch of her room opened, as a mixed group of guardsmen and Widstrom's mercenaries entered. A Guardsman wearing Corporal insignia began to order the others about.

"Search every crevice! I want this room upside down!"

The others tore her room apart, looking for any possible spot she could have been hiding in, before long beginning to prod her ceiling with rods. Going between the rafters, they moved down in her direction, causing Anna to quietly prop herself onto a single rafter in a silent balancing act. After thirty seconds of adrenaline pumping terror the rods reached her, their rasps on the ceiling no different than the ones before.

"All clear, Corporal."

"Damn it! Where the fuck is she!"

One of the soldiers answered. "It's the Princess, Corporal. She's not one to be confined."

The Corporal sighed. "Yeah, you're right about that. My daughter likes to do the same thing. God, I hope nothing bad happens to her before we can get her safely to the Queen's Own."

"I'm sure when she hears about the situation she'll follow her sister's orders and go to the dungeon so they're safe together. Or find a nice hidey hole till this all blows over."

A murmuring of men led credence the last statement, before the Corporal cut them off. "That's enough lads. Oleg and Ivar, I want both of you here in case Princess Anna comes back. Inform her of the situation, and get her to safety. The rest of us are going to search the area."

"Yes Corporal."

And with that, the bulk of the men left her bedroom, leaving the two Guardsmen behind. A few seconds passed before the two Guardsmen turned and looked at each other. "What do you think we should do while we wait?"

"I don't know." He shrugged. "Maybe we should try to tidy up this place. Less of a shock for the Princess if she comes back, eh?"

"Yeah, that sounds right."

As the two Guardsmen began to organize and declutter the torn apart room, Anna took a moment to gather her thoughts.

_So, Frida was right- there is something going on. But what was she referring to? I mean, like, it could have been in reference to an assassination plot or something._

But her stomach told her something was wrong. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, as the guardsmen were sincere as far as she could tell. Yes, there was some of those new paramilitary guys that Anna didn't take a liking to, but there was Guardsmen too- Guardsmen she had known for years. But something was up.

_I better get out of here, and talk to Kristoff. If something's up, I'll be able to see it better from a distance._

…

Crusader Camp, 18 Miles North of Arendal

Frikron stood and watched silently, as another fresh company of recruits made its way into the camp, even more pitiful than the last.

After all the first generation of crusader soldiers were blessed to have had access to plenty of captured stocks of both Winter Parkas and white summer drill tunics, the latter of which were useful when a larger size was worn over existing jacket. Unfortunately, those stocks had recently dried up.

Now, new recruits were being wrapped up in a motley assortment of "uniforms" as presented by the sorry lads before him. Many appeared to be wearing a thin off-white linen outer-coat likely quickly sewn by a seamstress and thrown over an existing jacket, but there was plenty of other styles. Oversized nightshirts made an appearance, as did simply sewn tunics of flax, wool, and cotton, ranging from tan and yellowed from exposure to off-white and light grey. A fortunate few already had "properly" colored jackets and parkas, while a few were unable to even get the white outercoats, wearing either white or golden armbands.

And if their uniform troubles were not enough, Frikron could already see trouble ahead. The press gangs had been particularly merciless, as both middle-aged men and teenagers were amongst the fresh recruits, as were a number of men with either physical or mental disabilities, though minor. And while Frikron was somewhat relieved to see that they had been at least issued muskets up north to train with, a closer inspection revealed many to be either hunting shotguns or foreign smoothbores gifted from their bandit "allies."

Escorting the recruits were a number of old hand soldiers and sergeants, having been charged to both pick up the recruits as well as train them during rests along the way to get as much drill in as possible before they were to be committed to combat. But as the company marched past, the NCOs acknowledged his presence as an officer with a look, a look that said but one thing.

_They're not ready, sir._

More heartbreaking to him was that he caught the look of a young teenaged boy, wearing an oversized jacket and outer white coat held down by belts and ruck straps. A floppy _Krätzchen _style cap sat atop his wiry reddish brown hair, accenting his boyish smile flanked by light freckles. A young man playing at war, completely unaware of the slaughter waiting for him.

…

Kristoff entered the stables for the first time that morning to prepare his new sled for his daily ice pick-up only to be surprised by a soft thud and a yelp, one he recognized quite well.

Turning about, he asked before he even saw the addressee. "Anna?"

"Shh!" Anna whispered, before rubbing the sore bottom she had landed on due to her clumsy collapse.

Playing along, Kristoff harshly whispered. "Anna, what the hell! The Guard has been looking all over for you!"

"That's the thing Kristoff, I can't be caught by the Guard."

Exasperated, Kristoff replied. "Why!?"

"I can't explain it, but somethings wrong."

"Anna…" Kristoff replied.

"Fine, it… it came to me in a vision. I'd ignore it but, I just have a bad feeling."

Kristoff paused, almost dismissing it all as part of Anna's historical quirkiness, but she was right about the vibe of the castle. The Guards and Security Troops all seemed sincere in their duties and searches, but Kristoff did get a bad feeling regarding the situation. He'd trust Anna, within reason.

"Fine, what do you need, Anna?"

"I want to escape the castle, at least until I can get to the bottom of everything."

"Well, I might be able to help you…"

…

Lance Corporal Nordfjell stood at the gate, a little irritated at his current predicament. He was awaiting orders to be cut regarding his assignment to sick leave for his broken foot when the full mobilization alarm was given, requiring him to be put on duty as his foot was now set in a cast. So now he sat on duty, trying to avoid messing with his cast.

He had just been placed on guard, when the relief for his counterpart, a security contractor, arrived. Tall like him, the mad strode up in his blue uniform, nodding to him with a bushy, gray beard.

"_Bures."_

Nordfjell looked at the mercenary oddly. "You're a Sami?"

"_Jua."_

"No shit." Nordfjell paused. "So, what makes a fellow Sami go mercenary?"

He shrugged. "What makes a Sami join the Royal Guard."

Nordfjell gave a laugh. "Well King Agdar, of course. My family would have starved if not for him. What about you?"

"Same general reason. Winter came bad that year, and there was too many herders and not enough reindeer. So some of us had to find work. I joined the Norwegian Army, did my time, and found myself liking the work. I'd stay in, but I'd make twice the money going mercenary. I had no great love of Norway as a Arendaler, so I went merc."

"What's it like?"

"Pretty much the same as all this shit. You'll likely travel more, that's true. I've been all over Europe, and I've seen a bit of Africa and India. But when you get there, it's all the same. Inspections, guard duty, marching everywhere and occasionally, a bit of action. But it pays well, and honestly, I couldn't stand going back to herding reindeer."

Nordfjell pondered for a moment if he could himself go back to the herd when his term of service was up. He'd only been in for little over a few months now, including his basic training. But in that time he'd seen a good deal of Arendal, a lot more than he had following the reindeer and harvesting ice. Either way, it was a bit of a waste to ponder now. After all, he was either going to die in Arendal during the siege, or get to go home when this was all over to compare.

Perhaps sensing the inner debate of his fellow guard, the mercenary carried on. "Any way, coming home isn't too bad. It was this or fighting for Tommy in China so they could push Opium. This was better."

Nordfjell paused, remembering the ongoing war waging on the other side of the world, before deciding to change the subject. "I never got your name, by the way."

The mercenary's nodded his head. "Corporal Filpa Magga, from the North Mountain area."

Nordfjell smiled. "Lance Corporal Rolfo Nordfjell, also from the North Mountain, obviously."

The two Sami chuckled, before being interrupted by a sled came from the inside of the castle, slowing to a stop. Nordfjell recognized him at once as the Royal Ice Master and Deliverer, Kristoff Bjorgman. Magga, however, did not.

"What is this, a Sami convention? Who's this one now?"

Nordfjell grinned. "It's the Crown Princess' pet Sami, Kristoff. She gave him a ceremonial post for helping her in her quest to recover the Queen."

"A local boy doing well, I can dig that." Magga turned to Kristoff. "_Guktie veasoeh?"_

Kristoff paused, before answering back awkwardly. "_Mannine hijven"_

Nordfjell and Magga exchanged puzzled looks. The language was correct, but the accent was… off. They couldn't place it, but it wasn't their version of Sami, that was certain. To be fair, he might not be a local.

"So, Master Bjorgman, what village do you hail from?"

Kristoff grew increasingly nervous, further arousing the suspicion of the guards. He was not a people person in the best of circumstances, now he was even worse. "The North Mountain originally. But I keep to myself mostly over by the Valley of the Living Rock."

Magga turned to Nordfjell, asking in a quieter tone. "I haven't been _home _home in years. You know this guy, like _know _him?"

"I've seen him here and there, but he was always a stranger. We didn't think too much of it then, but now that I think of it he seems awfully aloof for a kinsman…"

"Could he be a spy?"

Nordfjell stopped to think for a second, before answering. "I… I don't know. I know there was a Kristoff Bjorgman born to our village, around when I was born. But his folks died and the boy himself disappeared when he a little thing, no older than 8. We didn't see this one until right before the Great Freeze to be honest."

Magga looked over at Kristoff, failing miserably at the act of being inconspicuous. "Alright, he's hiding something." He turned to Kristoff, his hand hovering above his holster. "Master Bjorgman, please dismount from the sleigh!"

Kristoff froze, muttering something to some third party as Magga closed in, his tone becoming harsher. "Get off the sleigh, NOW!"

Just as the Mercenary was liable to draw his revolver on Kristoff, a tarp flew up in the back of the sleigh, stunning both Magga and Nordfjell.

It was the Crown Princess Anna.

She leapt from the sleigh, shouting. "Kristoff, RUN!"

Obeying, Kristoff regained his senses. "Sven, go!"

The loyal reindeer grunted, trying to rush through the gate, only to be intercepted by Nordfjell leaping to his feet, who knew how to stop a charging Reindeer.

"_Mannem åånedem_, Sven!" He cried, as he cold cocked the bull reindeer with one of his large fists, causing Sven to go down almost at once. Kristoff shouted in a mixture of surprise and worry, as Nordfjell drew his revolver on him. "Stand down, Master Bjorgman. I just want some questions answered."

As for Anna, she was quickly surrounded by Castle Guardsmen and Mercenaries, firmly and gently took her to perceived safety- her sister's location.

…

Bit of Notes-

Sorry for the delay in putting this chapter out, but school kept me busier than expected. The next two chapters should be fairly short, so hopefully I can get them out quickly.

Also, I used a bit of Southern Sami to recreate the language of the Sami characters, which is a bit up in the air as far as accuracy. As the "Southern" Sami people still live hundreds of miles north of where Arendal is, it's rather unlikely they would naturally settle there. Instead, I figure that Arendal represented a small refuge of tolerance in the rather Anti-Sami Norway, and as such a number of Sami tribes settled in the area, domesticating their reindeer and leaving behind their migratory life style but not their culture. Apologies if I butchered the language, I did the best I could short of actually learning Southern Sami.

O7, Dragunov

Glossary:

_Bures- Southern Sami for "Hello."_

_Jua- Southern Sami for "Yes."_

_Guktie veasoeh?- Southern Sami for "How are you doing?"_

_Mannine hijven. Sami reply to "How are you doing?"_

_Mannem åånedem. Sami for "Sorry."_


	22. Chapter 22- When Sorrows come

_When Sorrows come, they come not single spies, But whole Battalions._

_-Shakespeare, Hamlet, IV, 5_

July 31st, 1840

The Dungeons, Royal Palace

Anna's gut feeling worsened as she entered the ancient stone corridor that was the entrance to the dungeons with none other than Captain Edvard, who insisted he be the one to escort her down to Elsa. Something to do with getting a briefing or some such, the Captain of the Guard had said. Despite the tense but honest look on his, Anna still felt something was up.

"Captain, please let me go!"

The aging Guard Captain gave her a warm smile. "Don't worry your highness, I've done over a dozen of these over my career, and that's not counting drills. You're in no danger."

"You don't understand, something is up. I mean, what's up with all the mercenaries running around?"

"That's been accounted for, your highness. Every one of the auxiliaries assigned to the garrison has been approved by me, except for Widstrom's personal detail. And the Queen's own made sure they were disarmed before they went anywhere near the Queen."

"I hope you're right about this."

The two entered the Charge of Quarters room, where a number of Guardsmen milled about, standing post. They quickly snapped to attention upon seeing Captain Edvard, relaxing only when he ordered 'at ease.'

"Report, Corporal."

"All quiet here Captain. Nothing has gone in through that door, nor out."

"No reports?"

"No sir."

"Any noise?"

"No sir. The dungeon door muffles noise, but we'd hear gunshots sure as hell."

"Good. A little unusual for Hvitstrom to be so quiet for so long, but not unheard of. In any case, be sure to log my deposit into the log book, Corporal."

"Of course, sir."

"Carry on."

With that a Guardsman opened the dungeon door, queueing the Guard Captain and Anna to head into the dungeon, the door locking behind them. Anna felt a little disorientated as her eyes shifted from the bright, well-lit CQ room to the dark of the dungeons, where only the cell entrances and checkpoints were lit.

Her sense of dread getting worse, Anna was eager for a distraction. "Captain, what's going to happen to Kristof?"

"Nothing, naturally. I know about the trolls and Kristoff's upbringing, so naturally I am aware that he is no spy. He'll be free to go as soon as this emergency is over."

"Good."

A few moments of silence resumed, as the pair traversed the empty corridors that cut between likewise cells, before eventually nearing the end of the block. There stood a large group of men, some guardsmen, some mercenaries. The area being somewhat well, lit, Anna recognized Sergeant Hvitstrom, head of the Queen's own. He looked deeply troubled.

"Captain! I requested to be informed of Princess Anna's securing before she was to be brought down!"

"I am aware of the Sergeant, but I wanted a brief from her Majesty on the situation." The Captain looked about the room, before returning his gaze to Hvitstrom. "Where is the Queen, by the way?"

Hvitstrom began to look panicked, especially as boot steps began to approach. "It doesn't matter; we need to get Princess Anna out of here now!"

Growing defensive, Captain Edvard began to accost Hvitstrom. "What is going on here, Hvitstrom? Where is the goddamn Queen!?"

The footsteps came around the corner, revealing to be a number of Widstrom's men. Their eyes locked in on Princess Anna, their target acquired. "It's her- seize her!"

Hvitstrom turned to Edvard, screaming as he drew his revolver, "GET HER OUT!" In reflex all of the men in the room drew and leveled their weapons and began to fire rapidly. As black powder began to burn and fill up the room with smoke, Anna had difficulty seeing and breathing the already stale air. Stunned by the turn of events for only a moment, Captain Edvard quickly seized Anna and began to flee.

However, he only made it a few feet when Anna heard and felt bullets flying past and soon the Captain was slammed by a bullet, tumbling to the stone floor. Gasping his last, Edvard reached up to the Crown Princess, trying to gesture her in a shooing motion. "Princess… run…"

Horrified to see a man die before her, Anna froze in place, only moving when a revolver's bullet landed itself into her leg. Crying out in pain and buckling at once, Anna fell to the floor as the gunfire died down. She gritted her teeth and forced her head up, only to see Widstrom's mercenaries mopping up in a hurry. The Queen's own had killed more than they had lost, but they were simply swarmed. As shouting began to be heard back towards the entrance of the dungeons, two mercenaries quickly seized Anna and began to roughly drag her deeper into the dungeons. As she slid through the room, she felt the back of her dress become sopping wet as it mopped up all the spilt blood. The last thing she saw before being pulled through the door was Hvitstrom's corpse slumped up against a wall, his dead eyes staring at her sadly. And then, darkness.

…

Elsa sat alert ever since she heard the sound of gunfire, both worried and relieved simultaneously as the gunfire meant either her imminent demise or rescue was upon her. This was not lost on their sentry Nils, who had up to this point sat casually with his rifle cradled, but now stood rifle in hand looking about. Granted, the risk of an escape was diminished when Gerda and Dieter had been sent back to their cells, but the mercenary was a professional: he was taking no chances.

To her dread, it was a number of Widstrom's men who entered, followed by an even worse sight: a pair of thugs dragging a bloody Anna down the hallway. Elsa leapt to her feet, going as far forward as her shackles would let her.

"Anna!"

Widstrom quickly appeared, greeting the recently returned group with berating. "What the fuck happened, you imbeciles!? The whole castle must have heard that!"

A senior contractor answered, struggling in between breaths. "I don't know! The fucking guard captain showed up with the princess and they all just turned on us out of nowhere!"

"Fuck!" Widstrom paced about, thinking on his feet, before turning back to his men. "What's Anna's status?"

"She's shot in the leg, sir. If we wanted her as a hostage, we'd have to carry her out."

Elsa gasped in horror at the news, before beginning to gently sob. "Anna… no…"

Widstrom drew his baton, striking the bars of Elsa's cell. "Shut the fuck up!"

Elsa whimpered silently, before Widstrom continued. "Fuck, how much time do we have!"

"Not long. We locked all the doors behind us and blacked out the lights, but they'll have keys and lanterns. We need to buy time if we want to escape through the secret tunnel."

Widstrom pondered for a moment, before turning to his men. "Put the Princess in the chair."

Obedient to the man that pays their salary, they obliged, before Nils asked "What for, sir?"

Widstrom sighed as if steeling himself, before answering. "We need road blocks."

He drew his knife, positioning it across Anna's neck with one hand as he violently grasped Anna's hair with the other. Up to this point Anna had been fazed by her blood loss and the multiple blows to her head from being dragged through cobblestone, not to mention the shock of being dragged through blood and gore, but the imminent threat to her life caused her to struggle ineffectually against Widstrom's hold of her. Recognizing what was about to happen, Elsa screamed an unearthly wail just before Widstrom ripped the knife across Anna's throat, splitting it wide open.

Jerking Anna's head down as he released his grasp, he turned to the mercenaries. "Nils, Robert, Reinhardt, you stay back and finish off the Snow Queen. Everyone else, with me. We are leaving this shithole."

As Widstrom's troops began to file out except for those chosen to be her executioners, Elsa stayed transfixed on her sister's last moments. As the blood flowed heavily out of her second mouth, Anna reflexively reached up with her hands trying to close the wound, gripping the two 'lips' so fiercely that her nails scratched and drew blood. Before long she began to slump back in her chair, kicking the loose gravel like stone beneath her chair. In addition, she made a horrifying sound, a mix between screaming and gurgling in between her gagging and choking. Even the men left behind to kill Elsa could only watch with stone faces, ignoring their assigned duty. After a what seemed like an eternity, Anna's shuddering and kicking stopped, her light blue eyes fixed on Elsa, appearing sad for her sister but somehow relieved that her final moments were with her sister. Then the light faded from them, and they became cold and lifeless.

Anna was dead.

Elsa posture slumped, as she began to tremble ever slightly as the tears openly flowed liked rivers off her cheeks. The sound of guardsmen several doors away shook the gaze of her would-be murderers, refocusing them on the task at hand.

"Alright lads, let's get this done and rejoin the others." The trio leveled their muskets at Elsa, as Nils spoke again. "Hold still, my dear. You'll be with your sister shortly."

Elsa was at this point so overcome with sorrow and anger that she did not even have the power to collapse, instead she could only stand there numb, facing her oncoming death. However, her powers were mysteriously absent externally, much like they had been two weeks ago on the lake…

…the first time she lost Anna.

But unlike then, a burning like sensation overcame her, like that of an appendage submerged in ice water too quickly (though she had never felt that sensation in her life), except this feeling covered her whole body. In short, she felt as if a terrible blizzard raged inside of her. As so, her vision tunneled, as her mind became fuzzy with blinding, hateful anger.

To her killers, there was no sign, other than her eyes starting to glow blue, a glow that also lit her streaming tears.

"Say goodnight Snow Queen. Fire."

The trio squeezed their triggers, causing their rifles to fire.

…

Apologies to anyone who became… emotional due this chapter, but it is rated M for a reason. I was tempted to put a warning in… but where would the fun in that be?

No this is not the end of the road (Or is it?)

#Glensunderthedumpster.

Too Soon?

Also, shout out to the artist **Coeur,**who drew a beautiful piece of artwork, one that has proven to be a major piece of inspiration to my writing, as I literally wrote this entire arc based around the one moment captured in the picture, the moment being the end of this chapter. As fitting, I decided to use that picture as the cover for this story. If you wish to see more of their work, feel free to PM me and ask for a link.

See y'all next time,

O7 Dragunov


	23. Chapter 23- Winter's Storm

July 31st, 1840

The Dungeons, Royal Palace, Arendal

The rifles fired, send bullets speeding towards Elsa with lethal intent. And with the iron shackles on, Elsa had no way to block the bullets, sealing her fate.

Or so it would seem.

As the smoke from their rifles cleared momentarily after firing while the lowered their rifles, the trio of mercenaries saw a _very _disconcerting site.

The Snow Queen was very much still alive.

More so, long icicles encased the bullets, curved into hook like arcs away from her person, all three suspended in mid-air. A moment passed, just long enough to send a chill down their spines, before the bullet-icicles dropped to the ground. Awestruck at the spectacle, the three continued to stare at their target, and how she changed before them.

By this point, the glow of eyes, the glow that followed her tears, was unmistakable, even if there was broad daylight in the dim cell. By now, it was beginning to overshadow the existing light, hueing the room's light in blue. And if one bared to notice, the Snow Queen no longer blinked.

Not that they would, as even now, the cell she was locked in began to rapidly freeze around her, causing her guards to begin to panic. Nils attempted to reach for his revolver, drawing it only to see it had already been completely frozen jammed shut. Not a block of ice, mind you, but a perfectly slim and elegant ice encasing that filled every groove and mechanism with a sheet of ice.

Before they could make their next move, Elsa made hers. Her shackles unraveled, not exploded as the ice forced them open in a firm but precise manner, causing them to drop her feet. Having gotten their attention, Elsa spoke with a commanding, supernatural voice in a tongue unrecognizable to the men facing them.

"_Ég er Elsa, Skaðidóttir. Og ég mun hafa hefnd mína!"_

At this point the mercenaries attempted to flee, only to see that the growing ice patch had encased their feet, leaving them unable to move their legs. As they shifted, grunt and crying out in panic, a blizzard like gale began to form in the room, unraveling the Snow Queen's hairdo into a wild, natural state as she strode towards them. As she neared the cell bars, they simply snapped like twigs as she neared them, the last thing between her and them crumbling before their eyes. As she stepped through the missing bars, her eyes stayed transfixed on the doomed men, unblinking and glowing blue with power. Except now, there was no free flowing tears, but only ice.

"_Andask nú!"_ Elsa cried as she trembled from anger, having decided the fate of the men who would have killed her. Bringing up her left hand, a glowing icy swirling cloud encasing it forebodingly. Elsa took a moment to glance at the hand, seemingly unfamiliar with it and taking a quick mental refresher, before moving into action. She swiped the air before the mercenaries, to horrifying effect.

As the blast of ice magic hit the men, what it did what flash freeze every water molecule the magic encountered turning it either to grainy ice or snow, before Elsa's control of winter gales blew all of her new "snow" away. The result was blood red puff of snow that erupted out of the three men's chest cavities, leaving behind little but empty rib cages as the men died with agonized, horrified expressions. Their lungs gone, they couldn't even scream if they wanted to.

The first three dealt with, Elsa turned to her now dead sister. With a saddened whimper, Elsa embraced her corpse, nuzzling her face into her sister's bloody shoulder. She lingered for but a moment before withdrawing, hovering a few inches above her face. With a shaking hand she closed her sister's eyes, before kissing her on the forehead.

"_Ég elska þig Anna. Ef ég þrjóta, svefn vel í Folkvangr_." She whispered in an ancient tongue. She then cupped up her sister's slushy blood with both her hands, before bringing said 'cup' to her face, drenching her face with her sister's blood. "_Svo þú munt vera með mér eins og ég hefna þín, sváss, góðr nipt_."

She stood fully upright, before waving her hands in a sweeping motion that covered her whole body with a new garb. Unlike the last which had been elegant dresses, this was a step back as instead icy hunting furs and armor covered her from head to toe, turning her into a physical manifestation of the goddess of Winter, Skadi the Huntress. Her skin turning a light shade of blue, Elsa stepped into the darkness that was the inner depths of the dungeon little different from an ice giantess, ready for vengeance.

…

Widstrom and his few remaining men were working unlocking the series of doors that made up the secret exit of the castle when an icy gale rushed down the hallway, extinguishing the torches that lit the room and halls, as well as any lantern that was not firmly locked down, leaving the room much dimmer and the hallway pitch black.

A number of the mercenaries began to shout and panic, before Widstrom took control. "Shut the fuck up! So the Snow Queen still lives, what does it manner! Come on, she's a woman, not a god! Peter, keep working on the door. The rest of you, shoot anything that moves down that corridor!"

The mercenaries nodded, before scurrying to positions of cover, peering down into the darkness that was the hallway. Peter, hands shaking from fear, continued to work on picking the ancient locks. There was an uneasy silence for the next few moments, broken up only by breathing, muttering, and the sound of tools moving.

"I can't see a goddamn thing." A mercenary quipped. "Can we get some light down this hallway?"

Widstrom paused, before turning to one of the five he had left. "Paul, take a lantern and see if you can illuminate that hallway."

Paul nodded, the middle aged man grabbing a lantern before peeking around the corner carefully, lantern held aloft. "I see something fellows. Wait, it's her!"

Elsa appeared briskly pacing down the hallway with a purpose. Eye's glowing as if lit with bluish fire and with a grim, merciless expression, was unfazed by her discovery.

Edward, always one to leap into action, turned around the corner. "DIE YOU BITCH!" He squeezed off a shot, sending the lead slug down range. Elsa however simply whipped her hand out, creating a block of ice that encapsulated the incoming bullet that allowed her to "catch" the bullet. No sooner had the spike captured the bullet, she flung the spike back at Edward, impaling him and pinning him against the stone.

"JESUS CHRIST!" A man shouted, as they turned to their dying comrade, and watched in horror as the flesh around the wound turned black with frostbite, spreading across his body in mere seconds.

Widstrom turned about, shouting at Peter. "HURRY THE FUCK UP!"

"I'm going as fast as I can!" He wiped his brow, before shakenly resuming his work. "Christ!"

Paul proceeded to begin blindly firing his revolver around the corner, exposing as little as possible. But this meant little to Elsa. She simply guessed his approximate location behind the wall, before sending a bolt of ice down range.

The ice bolt simply flew into the wall, coming out on the other side of the wall, piercing Paul through the heart.. As his corpse slumped over, as frostbite like that of Edward began to spread. The other two simply stood in shock refusing to move, before hunkering down and waiting for Elsa to come around the corner.

But Elsa was anticipating an ambush as she entered the room. She swung both her arms out, creating walls of ice that simply smashed both remaining combatants against the wall like insects. With them gone, all that remained was Peter and Widstrom as Elsa entered the room.

Widstrom in sheer panic, screeched at Peter. "COME ON!"

As Elsa coldly approached both men huddling next to the door, Peter stammered during his last moments, as his hands shook so wildly the tools slipped out of his hands. "I-I-I ca-ca-can't do it!"

Elsa reached them, grasping Widstrom and throwing into the wall, saving him for later. Peter, sensing the sorceress behind him, violently shaking the bars in terror while screaming for help. Stopping after a few seconds, he turned about and began to grovel with his hands slightly raised and curled.

"Please, I'm just the tinkerer, I'm not the one you want!"

Unamused, Elsa simply swung her left hand in a sweeping motion, disintegrating his chest cavity as she had done to the trio that were to be her executioners. As Peter screamed without a sound and fell over dead, Elsa turned to the primary target of her vengeance, Widstrom.

Eyes wide with horror, Widstrom drew his revolver and pressed it against his temple with a mentally unsound laugh. Determined not to see Widstrom take the easy way out, Elsa jabbed at Widstrom's wrist, sending a spike of ice that severed his hand from his body.

"Fuck!" He screamed, as he grasped his stump in agony, as frost bite began to run down his arm. He gritted his teeth for a few seconds as he exhaled forcefully through his nostrils, before beginning a pained and psychotic laugh. "It doesn't matter what you do to me Elsa! No matter what you do, I will have hurt you more, by killing Anna!

Elsa gazed at Widstrom with a look that could freeze scalding water, before coldly speaking to the man she was about to hurt very, _very _badly.

_Þinn heppin ég þarf að drífa, Cur._

Elsa closed in, grabbing Widstrom with her right hand, before holding her left hand over his chest, her fingers having contorting as dark magic built up its power. She then blasted the foulest of her magic into Widstrom, with terrible effect. Starting with his extremities, Widstrom's blood in his blood vessels began to freeze in jagged ways, ripping his body apart from the inside as the ice made its way towards his core.

Despite his bold words, Widstrom began to scream in pain, leading Elsa to shout over him in an ancient tongue. Like before, this was no longer the voice of Elsa, but a terrible yet beautiful shout.

_Hennar lífblóð var ekki ykkarr við stela, hún var mitt og mitt einn!_

As the ice reached his heart, Widstrom's screaming and violent convulsing stopped, his agony at an end. Elsa sighed, before standing upright and taking a moment to admire her handiwork, and ensure the task was completed. By now, Widstrom's body was blacked with frost bite, but had withered and convulsed into a twisted shape, with a death mask of unsurpassed agony and torment.

Satisfied, Elsa turned and headed back the way she came.

…

Anna's corpse had sat undisturbed as Elsa returned to the hall in which she died, stopping before her. And beginning to speak again in the old Norse tongue.

"_Anna, ég mun frelsa þig. Og ég mun setja þig minn, ey."_

Elsa then raised her arms and closed her eyes, and proceeded to unleash a stream of power into Anna's lifeless corpse. Before long, Anna's spilt blood, raced back into Anna's neck wound, before icy fabric sealed it shut. But an equally dramatic change affected Elsa, as her snowy white hair turned dark brown and she began to grow withered, as if she had been starved. Her light blue skin turned back to a normal. Just when her cheek bones and ribs began to press against her skins, the magic ceased, causing Elsa to collapse unto the floor, now barely clothed in the tattered remains of her dress.

A long moment passed, before a nearby door opened and the sound of approaching hobnails clicking onto the stone floors made itself heard. As the footsteps neared, Anna took her first breath since she had died.

…

Outskirts of Arendal, Crusader Base Camp

Ásta was quietly seated on a hill, facing south towards Arendal as she had been for hours. She had been uneasy since morning, when she had sensed the trouble in Arendal.

She kicked herself for not seeing it coming, as up till this morning she had been in total control of the situation. But when Elsa's and more importantly Anna's life was in jeopardy, it all risked falling apart. Only moments before had she felt the shift of spiritual energy that was Elsa's rage, and the few minutes of crushing despair that her plans had failed when Anna had temporarily been killed. As soon as she felt Anna's presence return, Ásta had made her mind up.

A hulking presence made itself felt, causing Ásta to sigh, expelling her own anxiety as she stood up and opened her eyes, turning to face her thrall: Muspell.

His transformation had finally been completed, turning the man into a Draugr thrall, but one engineered for her purposes. After all, Muspell suddenly donning the face mask or bandages of a leper would have raised far too many questions. So he made to appear the same, until he tapped into his powers. When he did, he became much like an undead Fire Giant, true to his name. He now possessed many of the same powers as well now, though compared to her he was but a boy with a torch.

"You summoned me, literally." The giant spoke, his eyes blazing with rage as he gritted his teeth through his beard. "YOU said I wouldn't be a slave!"

"No, I said you wouldn't be mindless. In either case, if you want to be free, you merely have to do what I want."

The newborn thrall grunted in frustration, his true nature showing slightly. "What do you want?"

"The mission I tasked with when I created you. To Kill Princess Anna with the blade."

"That's it? You just want me to head south and assassinate her? Then I'm free?"

"Well, obviously you are to take all of your mounted troops down south, and instruct them to harass the city. And while your men are keeping Arendal tied down, you will enter the city, and kill Anna with the dagger."

Muspell grunted, before asking a final question. "That's it? Anything else?"

"Oh, yes. It must be done in daylight, before a crowd if possible. For this to work properly it cannot be done in the dark, both figuratively and literally."

"I'll kill her any way I fucking want, I mean, who gives a shit?!"

Ásta's eyes flared blue, before she pointed at him, before gesturing towards the ground. Muspell's knee's buckled and he collapsed onto all fours, his limbs shaking. Ásta then calmly strode up to him grasping him by the neck, squeezing it with brutal force.

"I give a shit, Muspell. I have waited too long for this, I will not see you, a fucking baby compared to me, ruin it! Now, you will do as I command, or I WILL assume direct control. And if I do, you'll never have as much as an independent DREAM again, let alone your Freedom! Now GO!"

She threw him back onto his feet, Muspell stumbling as he regained his footing. As he began to scurry back to his horse against his will, he heard Ásta's voice call out to him. "I'm a woman of my word, Muspell. I promise to you, if you do as I ask, how I ask it, you will be free for all your days."

She turned away from the thrall, looking back towards Arendal again.

_But I will be watching._

…

Bit of Notes.

Howdy folks, glad to have gotten this out the door. For a long time now, I've been looking forward to this, and now it's finally here. Elsa has in fact, rocked the mic properly in this scene.

Next chapter will likely take longer, as I've put a lot of work getting these chapters out timely, and there's a lot of stuff I got to do. Not that I'm taking a hiatus, just don't expect a turnabout within a week.

As for Elsa's speech, the lack of translation is done on purpose. Because spoilers.

See y'all later,

O7,

Dragunov


	24. Chapter 24- To live another day (part 1)

August 1st, 1840

Royal Palace, Arendal

Consciousness returned to Elsa abruptly, her mind alerting her that she was no longer in the dungeon but some place… better. Her mind was foggy, almost blissfully so. It was almost as if she was she was floating on a cloud. The only thing seemingly wrong was a certain emptiness, or lack of something, rearing itself as a nagging feeling that wouldn't go away. Otherwise, she was comparatively, in paradise.

Finally opening her eyes, Elsa was greeted by the face of her dead mother, Queen Iduna staring back at her, smiling.

Tears forming in her eyes, Elsa whimpered to her long dead mother. "_Mamma_, is that you?"

Idun smiled warmly back, her eyes loving but worried; before softly reassuring her daughter. "Elsa… I don't have much time. Something is keeping us from you. But we're here… and we're so proud of you."

Tears flowing openly, Elsa squinted as she weakly brought her arm up from her side, beginning to speak. "_Mamma, _I miss you so much, I-"

But when she reopened her eyes after wiping away bittersweet tears, her mother was gone. In her place was a strange yet familiar face; her own. A mirror had been placed inches away on her bed, so a doctor or nurse could easily see if their patient was breathing or not via the fogging on the glass. Her nearly white blond hair was replaced with the dark brown of her mother's, and her skin was a shade or two more pink, no longer pale.

These new features, combined with the fact that she shared many facial features of a younger Queen Iduna, could easily explain why at a glance she could see her own image as her mother.

_But I talked to her! Or did I imagine all of that? God, I don't know…_

Elsa turned her head back facing the ceiling, contemplating her new circumstances. Even in her blissful state (likely medicine fueled), it didn't take long for her to draw a conclusion. New brown hair and rosy complexion. Strange feeling of Emptiness. It didn't take a master scientist to form _that _hypothesis.

Testing her theory, she sluggishly lifted one of her exhausted arms up before her eyes, and proceeded to let her magic loose mentally. Except, this time, nothing happened.

Exhausted, Elsa closed her eyes and slipped back into deep sleep, postponing her worry at her missing powers for later. As for her encounter with her mother, Elsa shook the event from her mind and let it slip away.

…

Hours later, Elsa awoke again, this time to a little more commotion. She opened her eyes to see a small crowd surrounding her, notable examples being Gerda, Kai, Colonels Marcks and Grimstad, Lieutenant Gumrak, and most notable was Anna, alive and well- sort of.

Even as she vibrantly stood over Elsa's bed, Elsa could still see the horrible scar that spread across her neck, nearly ear-to-ear. Remembering her sister's death and apparent resurrection, Elsa teared up slightly and gave a slight smile. But if it was bothering Anna, she didn't let it show.

The first to notice Elsa's opening eyes, she was unsurprisingly the first to open her mouth.

"Elsa, thank God, you're awake!"

"Yes." Elsa spoke softly, confronting the elephant in the room. "I thought… no, I saw you die."

"I did, but you saved me Elsa." Eager to change the subject, Anna awkwardly changed the subject. "So… Elsa, you look… _different._"

Remembering vaguely her loss of powers from earlier, Elsa took the loss on the chin and chuckled, before replying. "I know. But it's a good different, right?"

Anna smiled mischievously. "Eh… I liked the old look better."

Kai stepped up, interrupting the playful banter of the sisters. He didn't want to, but there were major issues at hand. "Your Majesty, if I may interrupt? There has been issues for you to address."

Both surprising and unsurprisingly, it was the head Maid, Gerda, who scolded him. "Kai! She's been conscious for less than two minutes! Let her be!"

Elsa raised a hand, trying to calm Gerda. "No, this is my duty. Please, carry on Kai."

"Very well, Your Majesty. Firstly, there's the issue of the incident that happened yesterday, for lack of a better term. In addition, the Prince of Bornholm has arrived via ship with his Royal Guard, and wants to see you."

"Kai, what _did _happen yesterday?"

Kai paused, not sure where to begin before Colonel Grimstad made his way forward. "I believe I can explain that a little easier, your Majesty."

Elsa turned her head in curiosity, before speaking. "Very well, Colonel."

"What happened the previous 24 hours was a conspiracy between the Queen's own and Widstrom, as well as much before that. These two parties orchestrated the bombing that killed most of the Government, and they nearly threw a coup. Based on their own written words, the Queen's own intended to assassinate you, your Majesty, and then double cross Widstrom to ensure Anna seized the throne."

Elsa shook her head in confusion. "These men were trusted with my safety and routinely were near me, armed. Why go through all this trouble?"

"I believe they found out about Widstrom, and determined prematurely killing you would give him an opening. It's a little hard to determine exactly, given that every one of the known traitors is dead and the suicide note isn't too descriptive."

"Suicide note?"

"Yes, we found a signed suicide note with the signature of every conspirator, all except two were found in the dungeon. The other two was found in the Queen's Own barracks, with slit wrists. All that leaves are the three we found locked in the dungeons. I've held off on… aggressive interrogation with them until I received further orders."

"I see. For the three, fully investigate their claims, but nothing harsh. What of the rest of Widstrom's men?"

"Surprisingly innocent, I believe. They all came willingly when we took them prisoner, without firing a shot. He must not have trusted most of them to be part of a grand conspiracy. So as far as I can tell, they're all just simple mercenaries. And on that front, I believe Colonel Marcks would like to discuss with you.

Elsa held up her hand in a stopping motion. "Wait one moment. I understand about the contractors, but what about Widstrom and his men?"

Gumrak, Grimstad and Marcks looked at each other, before tentatively answering with a question of their own. "You… you don't remember, your Majesty?"

"Last thing I remember, Anna was… killed in front of me. After that, I woke up here. Did the bastard get away or not?"

The party was taken aback, before Gumrak responded. "Your Majesty, after we recovered you and Anna unconscious, we did a search of the dungeons. Widstrom and his men…" Gumrak paused, fighting off a revolted shudder, before carrying on "… you tore them to pieces. Every one of them."

Elsa's expression became one of shock, her eyes unhappy and her mouth slightly agape. Not unhappy that a mad dog was put down, but that some sort of berserker apparently resided inside of her. "How?"

The Russian shook his head, the most superstitious and pious in the room, the foulness of the magic used in that dungeon revolted him to his core, no matter how justified its use. Crossing himself in the orthodox style, he tried to explain. "Some we… we found stripped of meat and organs, leaving only bone in some places. Others we found desiccated, frozen, blackened corpses. And Widstrom… we found torn apart from the inside, withered and shriveled like a black raisin. I pray I never have to see something like that again, your Majesty."

Elsa shook her head. "I don't remember doing any of that, hell I don't know HOW to do _any_ of that!" Elsa began, defensively. Feeling the eyes of everyone in the room, who despite the best of conscious wishes unconsciously began to fear her, Elsa shrunk a little. Elsa was a little surprised when the room didn't freeze over, the Queen making a mental note that there was an upside to not having powers.

Anna swooped in, hugging her panicking sister and quickly reassuring her. "Elsa, it's alright. You did the right thing."

"No Anna, I… I-"

"You _saved me, _Elsa. If you hadn't done what you did, we'd both be dead."

Elsa gently pushed Anna away, still gently clasping her arms. She began to speak in an elevated volume, not directed at Anna but at her bleak situation. "But what now? I'm not an idiot. The brown hair, my rosier complexion, the steady warm room temperature- I don't have my powers anymore, Anna! How am I supposed to take on a Draugr!? How am I supposed to protect you!?"

"That's not entirely true, your Majesty." Elsa looked down and over, surprised to find Grand Pabbie was in the room. "Your powers were never limitless, and what you did in that dungeon nearly ran your battery dry. So much so, that when it no longer could draw your magic, it drew your very life force. It nearly killed you, it did."

"You mean when I tried to bring back Anna?"

"Yes. What you tried to do many have tried, and _very _few have achieved. You're lucky Anna was just barely dead. Even so, this could have gone so very wrong. You can never do this again, Elsa. Even for Anna."

"I'd be willing to die even for a chance at saving Anna, Grandpabbie."

The old troll shook his head in frustrated but tempered anger. "No. It's not merely about your safety. Once the soul has left the body, it's unnatural for it to return. What you loved comes back, twisted, terrible, _wrong. _We're were lucky, Anna's body had not begun to truly die, which only takes mere minutes. As such, you simply healed the wound, restarted her heartbeat and coaxed her soul back in before it had truly left. But the process is the same, and next time, you may twist poor Anna into an abomination. So I'm sorry your Majesty, but you must _never _try this again."

The room grew silent as the fact that Grand Pabbie just ordered the Queen to not take an action washed over them, before Elsa took the slight like a champ. "Very well. You began about how my current situation may not be entirely true. What did you mean?"

"As I was saying, your magic store was merely depleted. Your magic is part of you, in your very blood. And it will return, I fact I suspect it already has. Gerda, would you kindly?"

Gerda wasn't one to trust trolls, but the shaman had previously asked the elder maid a favor, and upon explanation, found nothing unreasonable about. So, she did what was asked. Withdrawing a single ice cube from a nearby serving tray, she quickly moved over to Elsa, placing it on her skin. "I'm sorry if this doesn't work, your Majesty."

However, as always, while Elsa felt and distinguished the ice against her skin, it in no way irritated her. Getting the point of this experiment, Elsa quipped "The cold never bothered me anyway."

Grandpabbie continued, his point having been demonstrated. "At this present course, you should be back up to speed in around a week, almost certainly regaining your old appearance within a few days, your Majesty."

"About that, your Majesty." Kai stepped in, a little professional worry on his face. "As I stated earlier, the Prince of Bornholm would like to meet with you."

Elsa at once understood the issue. "What are my options? It's imperative I keep up appearances, after all."

Gerda, being in charge of the wardrobes of the Royal Sisters as well as their mother's, was the expert in this situation. "The hair will be difficult, to be sure. Finding the plants to dye her majesty's hair to a color resembling her natural own will be difficult, if not impossible. Luckily, we have wigs for such an occasion."

"Wigs?" It was Grimstad. "There's a textile mill nearby, surely they have some chlorine we could use."

Gerda gave a horrified look at the Intelligence Colonel. "We are NOT using such chemicals on her Majesty! It will be a wig, plain and simple. Bornholm will not be able to tell the difference, trust me. As for the dress…" Gerda sighed, before continuing. "Every Ice dress has been destroyed, likely used as fodder for her Majesty's magic."

"Elsa's worn non-ice dresses to important events before, even after she's gotten her powers." Anna astutely pointed out. "Surely she can do so again?"

"I could, but that's not the message we want to send, Anna. We want to assure Bornholm that our side has the greatest chance to win as possible. Right now, my powers are our only trump card. We can't give that away."

Anna nodded, understanding the politics. "So where do we get a new dress?"

"Your Majesty, there is a seamstress in town that has taken advantage of your image in her newest line of dresses. I may be able to discreetly get one for you."

"Very well." Elsa groaned, still very weak as she tried to sit up further in bed. "Anything else?"

"Nothing that requires your direct intervention, though if possible, your intervention soon would be desirable."

Elsa sighed, before trying climb out of bed. She knew what Kai meant was "Yes, we need you right away." However, Anna's hand halted her.

"It's about the mobilization, right? Well, as Commander of the Reserves, that my job. You stay here and rest until you talk to Bornholm, and even then, just stay seated. Okay?"

"Anna…" Elsa began, only to be cut off by Anna's glare of disapproval. Elsa sighed, before continuing. "Fine."

"Then it's settled, then." Anna chirped, followed by one of her optimistic smiles.

Kai stepped up, one last time. "That settles just about everything. Is there anything else, your Majesty?"

"Yes. I haven't seen Olaf since the incident with the sailors. I understand he's been entertaining children, but could you send him here? I so wish to see him again."

Kai exchanged guilty looks with several members of the gathered group, people clearly in the 'know' about something Elsa didn't. Tired, Elsa ordered "What? Where's Olaf?"

It was Gerda who spoke up. "Your Majesty, your ice dresses weren't the only thing consumed. Your Ice Castle, the decorations to the palace, and Olaf were all… consumed. He's gone, your Majesty."

Elsa looked away, stunned by the news. After a quiet minute or two, Elsa finally spoke. "Please leave me, I wish to be alone."

The gather group nodded and respectfully departed, save for Anna, who gave a silent embrace before leaving. Soon Elsa was alone, where she simply laid her head back and tried to rest.

It was difficult though, given with all the tears in her eyes.

…

Moira O'Connor had sat amongst the other handful of women in the small room for a few hours now, waiting patiently for their common interest: the interview. All were young women applying to become Maids in the Royal Palace, for one reason or another, though Moira's may have been the most fantastical. Merely two weeks ago the young seventeen-year-old was busting tables in a tavern in the docks of Dublin, when Norwegian Sailors came in with fantastical tales from a little known Kingdom called Arendal (or Arendelle, as English speakers liked to call it.) At first she dismissed it as pure fantasy, but every day, more sailors came in and told the same stories, and in mere days, the paper ran the story.

The story of the Snow Queen.

Now Moira had been saving up for a boat ticket to America, to escape English rule. But after hearing the stories and reading the papers, Moira had made her mind up.

She was going to Arendal.

Problem was, when she got there, things were not as magical as the stories had told her. Arendal was not New York, in that it was not built for immigrants. There were no jobs, no frontier, and before long, there was the civil war in the north. But quitting was not in her blood. After all, she was Irish.

So she doubled down on her efforts and found that there was in fact job openings for maids: in the Royal Palace. Now Moira knew it was a longshot, but she was going to try. So despite barely being passable in Norwegian (thanks to Norwegian Sailors), she reported to the Palace two hours before the posted time (she still was not the first) and had since been waiting to be interviewed.

It was shortly before eleven when a woman sitting next to her spoke to her the first words she's heard all day from someone not in a uniform.

"_Wie geht es dir, Liebling_?" The early middle aged woman spoke politely, likely bored and desiring to pass the time.

It was not a language Moira was too familiar with. Perhaps it was Norwegian she hadn't heard of? "Excuse me?" Moira muttered, in her best Norwegian.

The other woman looked at her odd, before switching to Norwegian. "Do you speak German?"

"No. English is my birth tongue, and I picked up a little Norwegian."

The middle aged woman shook her head with pity, before switching yet again to English. "Dear, you do realize that the Royal Family here speaks German, right?"

Moira gave a disbelieving frown. "But this is Arendelle, they speak Norwegian here."

"The people do, yes. But the Royal Family is German Nobility, and has been since the Hanseatic league intermarried in the late Medieval period. And it's Arendal, not Arendelle or dale." The middle aged woman picked up her book with a sigh, before beginning to read again followed by a "Poor Girl."

Moira sat there dejected, realizing that perhaps there was a reason this was one of the few vacant jobs in town. She was wrestling with the idea of leaving, when finally, the door opened.

An older woman, wearing the Green uniform of a Royal maid, entered the room. She was of average build, if not slim considering her older age, though she had naturally wide hips, as if built for childbearing. Her light grey hair was held back by a green bonnet, which sat atop a weathered, concerned and determined face. Her light brown eyes scanned the room, passing over all of the other women, and focusing on Moira.

"You, the red head, come here and follow me."

Puzzled, Moira carefully picked up her things, before following the elder maid who quickly took off down the hall. As Moira struggled to keep up, she began to ask questions. "So Ma'am, is this the interview or…"

"Dear, if this works, you won't need the interview. And it's not Ma'am, its Gerda. I'm the Senior Maid here. So if you work out, you'll be working for me." Gerda halted in front of a random door, before turning to Moira. "Here we are."

Gerda opened the door, before gesturing inside. In the room were a number of young women similar in build to her, getting dressed back into their uniforms. Moira stepped inside, her brow twisting in confusion. Switching to her native English, Moira cursed "What the shite is all of this then?"

Gerda closed the door behind her, before speaking again to the young maid, surprisingly in English. "Please get undressed, dear. There's measurements I need to take."

"Measurements? What in the name of Christ is going on here?"

Bearing the patience of a saint, Gerda explained. "A unusual circumstance has occurred, and if you measure up, you'll have no need to go through the normal process of application. And based on your Norwegian language skills, or bitter lack of them, you need this, dear."

Moira stood in shock, before angrily undressing, cursing under her breath as she did. Before long she stood in her undergarments. "Now what?"

Gerda took out a length of measuring tape, measuring every nook and cranny. As she measured her bust and waist, she asked Moira only one question. "What's your height?"

"Five foot four. Why?"

"You'll see, dear. Maybe."

A silent moment passed, before Gerda finally finished and stepped back. "Dear, you are very, very lucky."

"Alright, how so?"

"In a moment. Firstly, are you sure you want to be a Royal Maid? And are you aware of the duties and oaths of a Royal Maid?"

"Yes, I want to be a Royal Maid. As for duties, I've done both tavern and maid work before, I think I got it."

Gerda shook her head. "It's more than just cleaning, dear. You are expected to swear to never betray the Royal Family, their secrets, or their reputation. What you see and hear, stay within these halls. Period. And trust me, I will find out otherwise if you feel you are above your oaths. In addition, you'll follow any orders from the Royal Family and myself, no matter what. Now, shall I get a bible?"

Moira paused a moment, before deciding. _Fuck it,_ _I wanted magic and adventure, after all. _"I'll do it."

"Fantastic. Now, dear what's your name?"

…

Moira had just finished the grueling round of paperwork and sworn oaths, finally being given a Green Maid uniform. Gerda had stayed put through it all, and now that Moira was now officially one of them, finally found it fit to disclose her reasoning to Moira.

"Now Moira, you were selected for a reason. For whatever uncanny reason, you happen to share Queen Elsa's body measurements. Height, bust, waist, hip, all of them."

Beginning to change into her maid uniform, she asked. "So what? Do you need a body double? 'cause I look nothing like her above the neck."

"No dear, we need something much more innocent. We simply need you to purchase a dress for us, that's all."

…

Bit of Notes.

Two-week turnaround, not bad. Not bad at all.

The next few chapters are going to be a bit slow, as we build up for the climax, I'm afraid. But once Arendal takes the plunge, it's liable to stay that way till the bitter end. So here's hoping I can get the next few chapters out quick.

As for Olaf… I don't use him honestly, so this was a Major Character "Death" that was quite easy. Whether he comes back… I'm not sure. As I said, I don't use him, but I don't want him axed off either. We'll see.

See y'all next time,

O7,

Dragunov


	25. Chapter 25- To live another day (part 2)

August 1st, 1840

Royal Highway, Arendal

While Queen Elsa lamented her loss of powers, her enemies in the North ironically were cursing her, as a moderate snow fall had hit them that morning, ceasing only just before noon. And while the rank and file were busy brushing off their tents and baggage while trying to get some drill in, the powers that be were discussing their fate.

Surtrsen and his staff had gathered to discuss the inevitable march south, or more accurately, Surtrsen had ordered his staff to be dictated to.

"Gentlemen, I have prayed for guidance and as such have come to the following conclusion: at first light tomorrow, we will strike camp and march south tomorrow. We will march 15 miles south, and then prepare camp and defenses for the night. The following morning, we will march to the edge of the city and construct the necessary earthworks at once. Understood?"

A number of stares was his response, some baffled, others annoyed. Answering all of them, Surtrsen replied with a weary "What?"

The first to speak was a new addition, Colonel Von Söldnerstadt. One of the mercenaries hired to assist the Crusader army, the German noble-in-exile had brought his battalion of troops as well. But he wasn't keen to sit back a collect a paycheck and let his bosses make bad calls.

"There is no reason to move so slow. If we started now, we could easily make it to Arendal before sunrise."

"Yes, but the men would be in no shape to fight, or set up defenses."

The German looked at him, baffled. "Defend against what? Disorganized, unfit, old men and boys? No, any raid or sallying attempt would be sluggish and slow, and certainly not during the first day."

"I will not be so cavalier with my men, Colonel. We go slow and steady."

"And while I'm loathe to agree with a German, the Colonel may be right on this." The new speaker was Captain Lacroix, a French Artillery officer shipped in to advise Surtrsen on Artillery matters and oversee his artillery. "Every day Arendal remains free of besiegement, is more one day more that refugees can enter the city. More refugees, means more defenders."

"And more mouths to feed." Lieutenant Frikron spoke up, acting as Ásta's personal attaché and representative at the meeting. "Her Holiness has it in good confidence that the enemy lacks the rations to feed so many refugees, and will likely collapse sooner. As for extra defenders, it just means less rats to deal with later."

Feeling justified, Surtrsen developed an eased posture. "Well said, Lieutenant. I guess her Holiness was right about you." Turning back to the others in the room, Surtrsen challenged the rest of his staff. "Aside from our foreign _friends, _does anyone else has objections?"

The rest of the gathered officers cast theirs eyes down or lightly shook their heads, as they all had seen what happened to those who defied Surtrsen before. While the mercenaries where safe, they weren't.

"Very well. We will follow my plan then. Dismissed."

The foreign officers shook their heads in a disgusted and exasperated manner, before briskly stepping outside. The Crusader officers left as well, though far more sheepishly. Of all the leaving officers, Lieutenant Frikron was the only one to leave with a sense of accomplishment, though no less uneasy.

For as soon as he had stepped a good distance away from the tent, did a very familiar voice pop up in his head.

_Well done, Frikron. If it wasn't for your argument, those mercenaries might have talked him into an overnight march._

Frikron's eyes widened, as his fears came true. Before she left on an unspecified mission, she had told him to keep the plan on track, and that "she would be watching." Looking around quickly, he found an empty alleyway between two tents, before quietly whispering. "How are you talking to me?"

_Left pants pocket._

Frikron stuck his hand into his pocket, pulling out a small stone with a number of glowing runes on it. "When did you do this?"

_Right before I left. Turns out that my mind powers are useful when it comes to sleight of hand. Neat, huh?_

"Goddamn it! I- "Frikron paused as a number of Crusader troops slogged by, not wanting them to think him crazy. As soon as they passed, he continued. "-I did what you wanted!"

_I know. I wasn't sure you would, but you didn't disappoint. I shall return tonight, and I give you your next mission- and the secrets you want to know. See you soon._

Frikron waited a few seconds after Ásta's voice to cut off, just to make sure she was finished. Seemingly gone, Frikron looked down at the stone, tempted to discard it as a sign of rebellion. After all, he did not like the things he was doing. But Ásta had not lied, almost every time they met, the Draugr unveiled new secrets of the world, and now he was addicted. He'd play along for now, but he wondered just how far he'd go to get his next dose.

…

The Market District, Arendal

Moira stood outside the store, double checking the piece of paper she was given to ensure it was correct. "Maren's Fine Dresses" Moira read to herself, before looking up, seeing the same on the sign. "Here we are."

Moira stuffed the paper back into her uniform blouse, before entering the shop. Inside she was surprised at the utter lack of displayed dresses, as well as materials. Behind the counter of the shop was a shorter woman of above average build, her freckled face dour as she swept the floor. Without looking up, she sadly commentated. "Sorry dear, but I have no winter clothing or material left, nor anything in wool."

"I was told that you produced dresses styled after the Queen's"

The portly woman's eyes lit up, as she quickly set her broom aside and walked briskly to the counter, grabbing her tools. As she organized her kit, she quickly asked "Do you mean the sheer "ice" dress dear?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I wanted."

"Are you sure? It's expensive, and in this weather, you'll get a cold in minutes for sure."

"Yes, I got quite a bonus when I got accepted by the Royal Palace, and I'd figure better now than ever."

"I can see that. With the siege coming, I could see wanting to get that off your bucket list." Tools organized, Maren came out from around the corner, down to business. "Please step this way, Miss. It'll take just a moment."

…

Royal Arsenal and Quartermaster, Arendal

Anna stepped into the main administrative office of the Armory after an exhaustive tour of the inventory that covered everything from the handful of recently discovered light cannons to canteens, in which the officers droned on and on about every piece of kit that was on hand. Finally, the tour was over, and she could do what she was here to do, or at least she hoped so.

"So, that's our entire stockpile, your Highness. Now Captain Karlstad should be able to give a reliable estimate of personnel available for service."

_Thank god, we've been here for HOURS…_

"Please, Captain, give your report."

The grey haired spectacled man cleared his report. "Well, thanks to the recent transition to the new Dreyse Needle Rifle prototype and _Kammerlader_, we have quite a number of extra rifles on hand for a mass mobilization. In addition, there are quite a few extra influxes of manpower to be had. For example, after separating the police and needed auxiliaries, we have 138 of mercenaries willing to earn a paycheck."

Anna mentally turned her nose up at the thought of utilizing the men who worked for the madman who tried killing her and Elsa, before her logic and diplomacy eased her down. Still, she was cautious. "Can they be trusted?"

"Colonel Grimstad has double checked all of their backgrounds and found no history of revolutionary or anti-Arendaler ties that would be troubling. And even if they did, we need the men, your Highness."

"Very well. Anybody Else?"

"Yes. A few days' prior a ship arrived, dropping off about two hundred Irish workers. They've been uncooperative to our mobilization efforts. As of now, we've rounded them all up to keep them from causing trouble, but still are refusing to budge. Earlier today, they've elected a spokesman who wishes to speak to the Queen."

Knowing that Elsa still needed time to recuperate, Anna made the split second call. "I'll see them when I can and see what I can do."

"Very well, your Highness. Finally, based on what my men at the conscription office are telling me, combined with our arsenal, I have a good idea on the idealized mobilization population."

"And that is…"

"Every man aged 14 to 60 that is capable of standing and bearing arms."

Anna recoiled in shock, before speaking in a harsh, horrified tone "Fourteen? Sixty? You want to send boys younger than me into combat? That's horrible!"

Coldly, Karlstad replied. "Your Highness, every formation we have is understrength and desperately needing men, in addition to the formations we are trying to raise to defend this city from the people who want to destroy it. Even if every man in that category is found fit for service, plus we can convince the Irish to fight for us, we still project being outnumbered three to one. If we wanted to, we could expand the age group from 12 to 70, but I'm optimistic that refugees will give us the numbers to deplete our rifle stocks."

Anna shook her head. "How can I ask Fourteen-year-olds to fight and die?"

Without skipping a beat, Karlstad responded. "You tell them that if they don't, the enemy will burn down our town, kill his father and brothers, and rape his mother and sisters. After that, you'll be hard pressed to find a man unwilling to fight."

Anna paused for a moment, before replying a little more jaded. "Very well, you may proceed with the mobilization, Captain."

As the Officers shuffled their paperwork and either stood to attention or readied themselves to escort her out, Anna began to understand that perhaps there was a reason Elsa was so adamant on sheltering Anna from all off this. Even so, Anna's determination to carry the burden was not lessened in any great way.

…

Royal Palace, Arendal

It wasn't until late afternoon when Moira returned with the dress, finally greenlighting the process of dressing Elsa to meet the Prince of Bornholm. As such, Elsa finally climbed out of bed after a filling meal meant to give energy, and sat down and let Gerda and her maids go to work.

The process took longer than Elsa expected, who despite her Queenly duties had never been much for makeup, thanks to both her 'natural' features, and the self-dependent nature of her isolation. As such, even with the long Scandinavian summer day, it was sunset when she was finally finished. Her earlier meal digested, Elsa no longer felt so sluggish, though she was hardly bursting at the seams when they sat her down in the throne room, ready to receive the Prince.

All things in order, Kai offered Elsa one last chance before the point of no return. "Your Majesty, shall I get the Prince of Bornholm now?"

Elsa paused, considering the outcomes of this meeting. Likely, the young Prince was after something, as Princes often were. Now the Prince's measly forces by no means warrant anything serious, like her or Anna's hand in marriage, but the Prince could still walk out of here with much more than 50 soldiers' worth of concessions. Still, every soldier counted. "Send him in, Kai."

The old steward nodded and quickly departed, leaving Elsa alone in the room, save for the normal compliment of Royal Guard. Curious to her appearance, Elsa glanced into a mirror Gerda had provided her. Elsa was surprised to find how similar she appeared to her normal self, only noticing a few minor differences. With the except of the handful of people closely familiar with her, she doubted anyone would notice the few differences, such as having slightly more volume to her hair, the slightly paler complexion and the like.

Hearing the door open, Elsa quickly put the hand mirror down and assumed a dignified, regal posture, just in time for Kai to enter the door, before announcing his guests. "Your Royal Majesty, I present to you His Royal Highness Prince Ludwig af Bornholm, third of his name; as well as Captain Klein af Hasle, Captain of the Bornholm Royal Guard."

The first man to enter Elsa recognized as the Prince, thanks to her studies of the region's nobility and genealogy. Quite handsome, the young man carried himself with a good degree of confidence in his red and gold Cavalry uniform as he entered the room. Still beneath his well-groomed, blonde and blue eyed facade was something hidden, even if the Queen couldn't quite put her finger on it. He might have been better at it than Elsa was, but she still recognized the expression of a man hiding something deeply personal. However, while Elsa raised her guard, she wasn't going to dismiss him from that alone.

_After all, just about every man and woman of the Nobility has at least one dark secret…_

The second man was unfamiliar to Elsa, though between the introduction and the man's appearance and bearing, was clearly the Guard Captain. An older gentleman likely in his early-forties, he had the air of experience about him as well as wizened eyes set into a well-weathered face. Like the prince, he wore a Red and Gold Cavalry uniform, but whereas the Prince's was covered with every bit of decorations and trim he could justify, the Captain's was of a more practical nature. While the two approached the throne, the Captain was naturally in Sentry mode, scanning about the room for any perceived threat, as he should be.

When the two reached the appropriate distance to Elsa's throne, the two bowed with respect before returning to a cordial standing position. Being the host, Elsa initiated the meeting. "Prince Ludwig, Captain af Hasle, I welcome you to Arendal and my court. Your visit honors me."

The young prince nodded slightly, before replying. "And your personal reception honors me, Queen Elsa. And may I say accounts of your beauty and regality have proven to not be exaggerated."

Elsa blushed a little, though mostly from awkwardness than from being smitten. After all, while Bornholm was certainly handsome, he was rather boyish and Elsa was a bit of an old soul. Before she could object diplomatically, Captain af Hasle softly cleared his throat and gave his charge a sideways glance, one the prince saw and took note. Eager to move on, Elsa continued. "Very well. Prince Bornholm, while I am grateful for your visit, may I ask what your intentions are in Arendal?"

The young prince gave a slight smile, before responding. "It's quite simple, Queen Elsa. Queen Victoria and her government was trying to raise support for your rule against the Northern rebels, and as such recruited me."

"I see. But why come personally?"

"Well, Bornholm has no real military force besides my Royal Guard. And if I sent them, who would have been left to guard me?" The Prince stated, very matter of factly.

"Why come at all then? No court in Europe would look down on you for not getting involved, given your Principality's lack of an expeditionary army. Especially given your unmarried status…" Elsa had given particular emphasis to the last part, trying to elicit a reaction and therefore an answer on the young Prince's intentions.

To Elsa's surprise, Ludwig's reaction was not that of a suitor or manipulator, but a brief moment of panic and worry, before regaining a collected, confident appearance. Once again cool, Ludwig replied. "I would not worry, Queen Elsa. My intentions are noble- I simply want to get a war under my belt while I am still a young man. As for my personal safety, that's a risk I'm willing to take."

His sincerity seemingly sound, Elsa decided to move past it for now, but in no way did Elsa invest trust into Prince Ludwig. She had faced far too much betrayal by now to assume anyone was that selfless. Still, diplomacy was always required. "I must thank you then, Prince Ludwig for your generosity and courage. If you may, please meet with Colonel Marcks, and he will see to the deployment of you and your men in a manner you see fit."

"Very well, Queen Elsa. Farewell then, until another time." After that, Ludwig and Captain af Hasle bowed and departed out the way they came. The moment they were gone, Elsa pulled off the miserable white blond wig and dropped it to the side of her throne, exhaling loudly. With nothing more scheduled that night, Elsa stood up, slow and pained, before carefully heading towards the exit leading to her bedroom suite. Kai of course moved in to help, but was merely brushed off by Elsa. Tired of being queenly, Elsa merely wished to escape her imitation of an outfit and sleep as long as possible.

…

As soon as Ludwig and af Hasle had left the throne room and achieved a suitable amount of privacy, they at once began to discuss the events of the meeting. Eager to distract from his gaffe, Ludwig started in an upbeat manner. "So, that went well, don't you think Klein?"

"You need to work on your court etiquette, Ludwig. Such flattery isn't very wise to someone who is your social better."

"But you said-"

"No. What I said was to play the part of the suitor, which means following the rules of the game. Not making advances on everything that has a vagina."

The young prince hung his head low, leading the Guard Captain that helped raise him to give him a pat to the back. "No worries, Ludwig. No harm, no foul. Just be sure to learn from your mistake."

"But you can't blame me right? She was quite attractive after all."

The older Guardsman laughed, shaking his head. "Perhaps, even with the wig and makeup."

"Wig?" Ludwig asked, curious.

"Oh, _boy_. You couldn't tell? She was clearly wearing a wig."

"But it didn't-"

"Ludwig, I'm a Guard. It's my job to spot disguises when I see them. And I've done so for over two decades now, longer than you've been alive. Trust me, she was wearing a wig."

Ludwig paused a moment, before asking thoughtfully. "So what if she was?"

Captain Af Hasle smiled coyly, before replying. "Oh no, that's not my job. It's my job to tell you Queen Elsa was wearing a wig. What that means… that's for you to decide, your Highness."

…

Bit of Notes-

Another month, another chapter.

Sorry for the delay, but I was rather busy with stuff, having just gotten my driver's license and all of that. I had about 90% of this chapter done, but as things do, it got away from me.

Hopefully, I can get another chapter out as a Christmas gift, but either way, looking forward to the holiday season, and getting a chance to see my friends and family, especially my friends who are still serving in the actives.

See y'all soon,

O7,

Dragunov


	26. Chapter 26- Point of No Return

"A little knowledge is a dangerous thing. So is a lot."  
― Alexander Pope

August 2nd, 1840

Crusader Camp, Arendal

Frikron had just finished his final duty for the night and made it back to his tent, exhausted but still on edge. After all, Ásta still had to appear and if Frikron had learned anything, is that when Ásta declared something, she made it happen. Letting off an exhausted exhale, he checked his personal timepiece. It was after midnight.

"I guess it's the 2nd now." Frikron declared to no one in particular. All about him among the pitched tents and shelters of their army was a handful of men who for one reason or another were still awake at this hour. Some were on guard, others on details. And quite a few were simply too worked up to sleep, writing letters or socializing with their comrades. Frikron smiled for a moment, before remembering what was to happen to these men should Ásta succeed.

Trying to shake himself of that thought, Frikron entered his tent while he attempted to will the thought away, his eyes winched shut.

"Oh don't be like that, Frikron."

A shiver ran down Frikron's spine as he heard the Draugr's voice, opening his eyes to find her waiting on his cot, legs crossed and hands in her lap, only her head turned to face him. But as always, her glowing blue eyes didn't fail to haunt him.

"That's another problem with you Christians, is you act like death is so final."

"What are you talking about."

"Your thoughts, Frikron, I read them." Ásta paused for a moment, adopting a puzzled expression of her own. "I did tell you I could do that before, right?"

"Yes, yes you did."

"Of course. Anyways, you felt pity for the men outside, most of whom will be dead in little over a week. And I was saying that's a problem with you Christians, is everything is an ultimatum to you Christians."

"How so?"

Ásta laughed, before continuing. "Isn't it obvious? Heaven or Hell. Everlasting Salvation for the truly Christian, eternal suffering and torture for everyone else. Does that sound reasonable to you?"

Frikron sighed, shaking his head. "I suppose not."

"Exactly. And as such, because you have a mindset that black and white, you feel that my mindset is to murder every one of those men and send them to damnation. But that's not true."

Frikron gave a curious look. "It isn't?"

"Of course not Frikron! Only a depraved and vile man would wish eternal torture on their enemies because they just believe different from them! No, my gods aren't as vain as your 'one true god' is. Those in your crusade army who die bravely and are worthy will still feel the embrace of the Valkyries, and go to Valhalla or Folkvangr and dine with the gods. Some others, the truly gifted of their crafts, will also be invited to join the Gods, and share their gifts with them."

"But what about the rest?" Frikron asked wide-eyed, eagerly absorbing all of this ancient knowledge. It seemed small, but these moments were the reason he still cooperated with the Draugr, so intoxicating was this forbidden knowledge, at least forbidden to one who grew up smothered in Christianity.

"The rest go to Hel, goddess of the inglorious dead. But unlike the Hell you know, the goddess of death is just and fair. To those who died of old age, of sickness, of accident, or simply didn't measure up to the standards of Odin or Freya, there is no suffering in Hel's hall. Instead you join your ancestors in Helgafjell, or you slumber in Hel's hall until Ragnarok. Only the truly wicked and depraved are punished, and are sent to Niflheim. So you must not fear for the souls of those men outside, for they will reap the just reward of their lives, one way or another."

Ásta paused, waiting for Frikron to respond. However, the young officer was silent, most likely wishing for the lesson to continue. But that's not what Ásta came here to do.

"You seem to value knowledge, Frikron. But secrets come with a price, at least secrets worth knowing."

His vapid face shifting to a concerned one, Frikron asked "What do you mean?"

"Knowledge is power Frikron. The All-father understood this quite well, and made great sacrifices to attain all the knowledge he could. On one occasion, he hanged himself for nine days and nights from the world tree Yggdrasil to learn it's secrets. On another, he willingly gave up one of his eyes to learn the secrets of the cosmos, drinking from Mimir's well. For great knowledge, sacrifices must be made. The question is, Frikron, how much are you willing to sacrifice to attain the hidden secrets of the universe?"

"I… I don't know. I have yet to encounter something I've been unwilling to do, but I don't know quite what my limit is."

"Spoken like a wise man, Frikron." Ásta spoke solemnly, before retrieving an ancient box of carved wood, covered with runes. Opening it before the lieutenant, it revealed a wooden bowl, likewise rimmed with runes. "According to legend, this is a bowl carved from Yggdrasil that a Volva used to drink from the Well of Urd, the same well that Odin himself drank from. And while it may not give the same understanding of the cosmos that Odin has, drinking water from this bowl _will _unlock many of the secrets of this world. Or at least according to legend, I think."

"Wait, you haven't tried it?"

Ásta shook her head. "No Frikron, this was never meant for me. This was for me to take to Folkvangr, so in my new lands, I may appoint a Seer, and they would drink from this. And I think, that might be you."

Frikron hesitated, before reaching a hand towards the bowl, only to have Ásta snap it shut before his fingers could even get close. Confused, Frikron gave a puzzled look to the Draugr. "But-"

"There is one final challenge, Frikron. One final sacrifice. One final test of wisdom and wit."

"What would you have me do?"

Ásta smiled behind her mask, before producing a parchment and handing it to Frikron. Opening it revealed a list of villages, most of which had either pagan or Sami styled names. A chill ran down his spine, as the implications overtook him.

"These are-"

"Villages to be destroyed yes. Your mission will not be easy, but for the sake of Arendal itself, you must carry out my orders."

"You wish me to-" Ásta cut him off, grabbing his arm, before glaring into his eyes with those haunting blue eyes. And much like when the Draugr had spoken into his mind, the details of the mission were given to him without a word uttered. Uneasiness shook Frikron, leading to brace against a field table, the Draugr releasing her grip as he fumbled. He now fully understood what darkness lay ahead now for him, should he wish to drink from the bowl.

"You know what has to be done, and what sacrifices must be made, Frikron. It's not an easy decision, so I shall return in the morning to receive you answer. Goodnight."

And with that, the Draugr left, leaving a disturbed Frikron clutching a map of doomed villages. He had finally reached a point of no return.

…

Dunbroch Embassy, Arendal

Captain Eadan Mackenzie stared out the window of his office, marveling at the craziness that winters in Arendal seemed to bring. The summer snow had of course been occurring for days now, but only recently had the odd winter begun to affect the harbor. The previous day the ship from Bornholm had to be careful when offloading its passengers, and now only the smaller and more maneuverable vessels dared to come in and out now, as some ice floes had begun to show themselves.

However, marine trade was the lifeblood of Arendal, and they were not unfamiliar with winter. As such, the longshoremen did what they had done for generations and adapted. Now smaller craft simply rowed and sailed out to meet the smaller vessels, taking advantage long summer days to move cargo. To the Highlander, it was amazing. But to the sailors and dock men of Arendal, it was simply an early winter.

As such, the Captain was surprised when a knock was heard, leading the kilted Scotsman to turn about and answer. "Come in."

An orderly opened the door, letter in hand. "Sir, the ships have brought in our dispatches and letters, including one for you sir."

"Who's it from?"

"Queen Elinor herself sir."

Mildly surprised, as a letter from either of King or Queen was a rare occasion indeed, Mackenzie's eyes lit up. "Let me see that."

Taking the letter from the orderly's outreached hand, Mackenzie wasted no time in opening it up and beginning to read the letter, dismissing the orderly as he did. Alone, he delved into the letter's contents.

_Captain Eadan Mackenzie,_

_I write to you as you are the senior military commander of our embassy in Arendal. As such, I am informing you that based on the information we have received regarding the revolt in Arendal, as well as our diplomatic ties with the Arendaler people and royalty, as well as the strategic importance of Queen Elsa av Arendal's powers, that myself and King Fergus have decided to declare war on these so called crusaders and sail to Arendal's aid._

_While we are mobilizing battalions of both the 5__th__ Dingwall Fusiliers and the 22__nd__ MacGuffin Grenadiers, we understand that the city of Arendal itself is under siege. As such, if possible evacuate civilian staff, or at make efforts to improve safety. In addition, as we are no longer neutral to this conflict, we expect the soldiers of all the clans of Dunbroch to fight to defend the city of Arendal. Lord Macintosh agrees with this, and as clan Mackenzie is a cadet clan of clan Macintosh, expects you to do your duty._

_Take care and good luck,_

_Queen Elinor of Dunbroch._

The captain folded up the parchment, taking a deep breath before talking to himself. "Well, I guess I'm fighting for the Snow Queen now."

…

"Are you ready to meet them, your Highness?"

Anna slowly blinked at the officer who had asked her the question, having zoned out in the brief period of time she had been sitting in the warm palace room. As requested, she had arrived at the local garrison shortly after 8 AM in the morning, which might have been the middle of the night as far as Anna was concerned. As such, Anna had forgotten the significance of her meeting this morning. However, unlike her usual drone behavior behind closed doors in the morning, she was trying to seem capable.

"Meeting… yes of course. I am ready to meet the, uh…"

The young staff officer, quite unfamiliar with the Crown Princess, faltered, before confusingly spoon feeding the Royal. "Irish Representative, your Highness?"

"Yes! The Irish representative, of course." Anna paused, recollecting what she had been told the day before. "They are upset, I hear, about being part of the defense." Not seeing looks of disagreement convinced Anna she was on the right track. Switching to a bit of bravado to cover up her awkward gaffe, Anna casually continued, nodding her head. "I'm on top of it, Lieutenant."

"Of course, your Highness. Do you wish to see them now?"

Anna had kept nodding, before hearing the question. A little off balance, Anna responded in a fumbling manner. "Oh, right. Of course. Please lead the way."

Anna was lead into a small drafty room, possessing a wood stove that was unlit to conserve firewood, the crisp atmosphere shocking Anna fully awake as soon as it collided with her face. Now alert, Anna took in the room, noticing the man before her. He stood about above average height and bearing short, straight black hair, which matched his facial hair consisting of sideburns and scraggly stubble: not quite a beard but not a five o'clock shadow either. His brown eyes peered with clear disdain at Anna, reinforced by think dark eyebrows and a long nose that soured his disposition. His ragged expression was complemented by his outfit, consisting of a long-faded green woolen uniform jacket, and tan breeches and black boots.

Anna took in the appearance of the man, before attempting to speak, only to be cut off by one of the officers, trying to be cordial and introducing her in English. "Your Highness, this is Patrick Donohue, representative of the mutineers."

Before Anna could respond in kind, the Irishman responded in a thick accent, his words dripping with anger. "Mutiny? Me and mine ne'er signed your damned enlistment papers, you daft bastard! And we won't either- we didn't leave _English _ruled Ireland simply to be cannon fodder for some fookin Queen!"

Anna was a little taken aback at the ferocity of the statement, especially how he somehow turned the word "English" into a curse word. But she wasn't one to be talked over in any capacity. Or let someone bad mouth her sister. More the later, actually.

"Excuse me, but that 'fookin Queen!' is my sister!" Anna said, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, sure to include an exaggerated Irish accent and air quotes when quoting his words. The Irishman turned an irritated eye towards Anna before putting two and two together, realizing that Republican talk might not be the best tactic here.

"Sorry miss, I didn't mean any personal disrespect to your sister the Queen. But I was elected by the lads to speak for their interests, and that includes not getting butchered in some wretched civil war!"

"Mister Donohue, we don't need cannon fodder for some expedition to quell a rebellion. What we need is men willing to defend this city!"

"Aye, that's how it always starts. Then if we win the battle, then what? We find ourselves marching north to die in a far-off land for some Queen who's ne'er even seen Ireland. We signed up to be laborers, not soldiers. And we certainly didn't sign up to go to a warzone."

"Well, you're here now. So…"

"So we want a damn boat back to Ireland. Plain and simple."

Knowing full well that no ship for Ireland was coming, nor anywhere nearby, Anna chuckled awkwardly. "So, yeah, that's not happening. Like, even if we wanted to do. Which we do. More or less."

"Look, were not picky. Any ship out of here will do."

"You're not listening. We're barely moving small cargo in and out of here on the longshore boats, let alone people. Those people we _can _get out are certainly not going to be military aged males, that's for certain."

The hopelessness of his plan dawning upon the Irishman, his eyes widened and he began to panic. "It can't be so! There's gotta be a way out!"

"Well, you could make a run for Grimstad and take your chances with the sons of Muspell. You know, the murderous outlaws Surtrsen has tearing up the countryside. But that's on you…"

"You don't understand, many of us brought our families. We got to get out!"

Anna sighed, before explain. "Look. We're trying to get women and children out. But if the fjord keeps freezing at its current pace, we won't be able to get everyone out. But when that water freezes, whoever's left, is left. And as a former military man, you can tell me what happens to a besieged town that's overrun."

Donohue sighed, before replying solemnly. "No quarter."

"Exactly. That's why we need your men, Mister Donohue. If we can hold them back, help will come. Our allies are coming. We just need to hold."

Donohue cast his eyes down, thinking a moment. "What do you need the Irish to do?"

"Sign 30 day contracts. If you do so, you'll be treated and paid the same as any other defending soldier, and permitted to stay in the same battalion. If the siege is broken, you'll be relegated to rearguard action, not sent up north."

"And if we don't"

"We'll find noncombatant work for you. Sapper and firefighting, if you cooperate. Anyone who doesn't cooperate with civil defense will be jailed, Irish or not."

"And our families?"

"Irish noncombatants will be given the same evacuation priority as anyone else, whether or not you sign contracts. However, the families of fighting men will be given better rations than those who don't."

"Very well. May I return to the lads and tell them of your offer?"

"Yes. You are dismissed."

The black-haired Irishman departed the room, leaving Anna to slump against a wall and exhale loudly as so as he was out of earshot. Alone as the officer present left with Mister Donohue, Anna remarked on a few things to herself.

"I think I just used blackmail to get people to join the army. Actually, yeah, I'm _pretty _positive I just did."

She shook her head, before looking at a print of Elsa on the wall, awaiting an upgrade to a painted copy. Smiling and shaking her head at the monochrome image, Anna spoke with a hint of remorse. "Oh Elsa, had I know this was your lot, I would have been far more understanding. If I- we get through this, I'll learn to not take you for granted."

And with that, Anna excited the room to her guard detail, ready to move onto the next aspect of the defense of Arendal that was hers to oversee.

…

Arendal Outskirts

A cold wind blew as the sunset in the woods surrounding the ancient port city of Arendal, but Muspell was quite warm. Even if almost all the buildings in the clearing weren't ablaze, the Draugr blood flowing in his veins always kept him warm, as well as angry. Both snow and ash fell from the sky as his irregulars milled about, carrying about with the process of looting everything of value that could be carried and destroying everything else.

Only one building left unmolested, being the main building and by the look of all of the items being carried out, a general trade store. As he surveyed the carnage, one of his trustees approached with a sign consisting of two wooden carvings connected by chain. Having dispatched the man a few moments ago, Muspell turned and begun to speak.

"Was I correct, Mikkel?"

"Aye, you were." The dismounted raider handed Muspell the sign, which he read at once.

"Wandering Oaken's Trading Post."

"And Sauna. Speaking of which, should we keep this one standing? I don't know how long this siege is supposed to last, but having a sauna would allow us to delouse our clothes, as well as improve troop morale."

Muspell considered it for a moment, before falling back on his instinct. "No. It burns with everything else. A good bandit never gets tied down in any one place, and this place would be a slaughterhouse if any enemy showed up. Besides, we all know that our holier than thou friends would have ejected us as soon as they arrived."

"Very well." Mikkel trudged over to the carved wooden pillars of the front entrance, taking a moment to appreciate them. A former wood worker before his conviction, Mikkel did have a soft spot for good woodworking. He even saved a handful of wooden figures and stashed them away, saving them from the bonfire. "Perhaps it was for the best Oaken and his family was long gone by the time we got here. I'd hate to see such talent pointlessly killed. Oh well."

He took a torch from a passing raider, before tossing it inside onto a spilled can of paint thinner, the fluids igniting at once. Mikkel stepped well back, making sure the empty trading post was well ablaze, before turning and reaching his horse.

As the Danish outlaw mounted his horse, Muspell turned about on his mount, taking a gander down the valley. Way down below lay Arendal, and more importantly, Princess Anna. He clutched his dagger, feeling it pulse as he did.

_One more day, and I'm free…_

…

Bit of Notes-

Merry belated Christmas everyone, and Happy Holidays. This chapter was unfortunately done before Christmas, but I was too busy on Christmas to edit, and then I was too sick. So it was a little later than I'd like.

On another note, 2016 just will not leave us alone, will it? Rest in Peace Carrie Fisher, Star Wars and life in general will be a little sadder without you.


	27. Chapter 27- The Fire Rises

August 3rd, 1840

City Gates, Arendal

The cold air hung still on the ramparts of the old stone walls of the city, as a number of Landwehr soldiers raced up the stairs, rifles in hand. Reinforcing the handful of soldiers already providing security, the mix of young and old men moved into intervals of a meter or so, before going to the position of attention, rifle stock next to their right boot's toe and barrel up. It was one of the few drills the new recruits had grasped so far with any decency.

Behind them was the now Lance-Corporal Mikael Eriksen, who followed up behind them. The young man was promoted and assigned to lead the new recruits and keep accountability as well as help train them in between their duties, no easy task. Glancing the troops up and down, Mikael stopped before one particular soldier, before raising his voice.

"Gods-damn it Konrad, tie your fucking laces!"

The young recruit flinched, before stammering a response. "Yes Lance Corporal."

As the teenaged recruit began to tie his low-quarter boots in a fashion that would certainly come unraveled later, Mikael put that thought to the back of his head for later. Instead he turned to the other side of the gate, waving to the squad leader there indicating his readiness. Once he got the return signal, Mikael turned about and looked over the parapet, at the reason for the raised alarm.

Another wave of refugees snaked its way across the snowy earth, the latest of many such bands of refugees of today. Over the last 24 hours, a massive surge of groups fleeing the Crusaders had arrived, causing a state of high alert for the garrison. The city was happy to receive more helping hands and save lives, but troops always had to be drummed up to watch and search the refugees when they arrived. After all, someone had to ensure that a refugee column wasn't actually a Trojan horse.

Mikael waited as the guards already on duty used their spotting glasses to review the refugee column, looking for tell such as an excessive number of young men, enemy uniforms under cloaks or bulges indicating hidden weapons. After a moment, the guard sergeant on duty gave a hand-wave in a reeling motion, indicating that the refugee's looked legitimate. As such the men below began opening the gate, as Mikael initiated his own part.

"Alright fellows, down we go."

Now that the refugees had been cleared from afar, they would still be searched as they came in. This was where Mikael came in. As such, both squads on the flanking side of the walls shuffled down the ancient steps and turning about to step into the now opening gate. Before long, Mikael and his troops had filed out into a flanking position outside of the gate, once again going to the position of attention again, ready for the refugees who were about a hundred meters away.

The wind howled, causing Mikael to clinch his teeth as chill ran down his spine. This was a drill he did not care for, though he held his tongue on the matter. He had just begun to wiggle his toes to keep active when one of his soldiers raised his voice.

"Are those horsemen supposed to be there?"

Mikael looked over to the nearby hill, spotting a large group of irregulars on horseback, watching the refugees and open city gates. At once, Mikael's hair stood on end. This time, however, it wasn't from the cold.

"ALARM!" Mikael screamed, before readying his weapon, eyes widened with adrenaline.

The horsemen must have heard or had great timing, as they began to trot down the hill, quickly shifting into a full gallop. The refugees would have been deaf to not hear the hooves of the horses and the yipping and yelling of the men riding them, and proved to not be as such. The down-trodden refugees began to cry out and break into a run, most throwing down anything but the most vital of provisions as they made it towards the gate.

The men at the gate stood uneasy, as they were under orders to close the gate at the first sign of trouble, but they were not prone to lock out women and children. Plus, the regulars amongst them were spoiling for a fight.

"Landwehr! Load rifles!" Mikael shouted, before quickly loading his rifle in a smooth manner. The same could not be said of his troops, who fumbled even through the basic breach loading action of their Dreyse rifles.

_Thank the gods we don't have muzzleloaders, _Mikael thought. "Fire at will!"

The recruits fired a staggered volley, before returning to reload. Across the gateway the Corporal there must have given a similar order, as they too began to shoot their rifles. The effect on the incoming cavalry was slight, but it was better than nothing.

As Mikael was reloading however, a shout from above drew his attention.

"Lance Corporal, Corporal! We're closing this gate to a slight crack! If you don't come in now, we may have to close it on you!"

"Okay!" Mikael shouted back, before taking a look at the situation. His recruits had just fired a second volley, once again to little effect, with maybe one or two horsemen going down. Soon they would be in carbine range, and soon after that, they'd be on top of them. The fastest of the refugees had just sprinted between them, with the bulk close behind, especially since the gate was closing in front of them. It was not the mass that was threatened, but the stragglers. As such, he made up his mind.

"Guys, get inside and assist with the searching of the refugees. I'll join you in a moment!"

The recruits nodded sheepishly, before turning and scampering through the gate. Mikael watched the last of his men go through the gate, before finishing reloading and firing again, taking down another horseman. In response the horsemen leveled their carbines and fired, their shots peppering the area. A number of refugees were hit as were some men in the other squad, but luckily none so bad that they were immobilized, though some were likely walking dead.

The horsemen were now a number of seconds away, and drawing their melee weapons. Based on the lack of sabers or lances, it was clear these were no true cavalrymen. Still, they meant certain death if he was outside the gate when they reached it.

The last of the refugees sprinted through the gate, leaving only a uniformed man who was assisting an elderly woman clad in furs and cloak. Swearing a curse under his breath, he slung his rifle as he sprinted to their aid. Right as he reached them, the woman stumbled, her arm flailing towards the ground around them before regaining her balance.

Seizing her, he assisted the unknown soldier in helping the woman towards the gate, at this point effectively carrying her. Still, looking behind them, it was clear that they were not going to make it. With the gate so close, but still too far, a number of horsemen raised their weapons, ready to strike as they closed within meters.

But then, a blessing.

The horses hit sheet ice, stealing all traction and causing the large beasts to skid, throwing them into a panic. As such, instead of striking down Mikael or being able to force a foothold into the city, the rebels were either being thrown from their horses or struggling to remain upright, with a few even going down with their horses. And because of this, Mikael was able to get the woman through the gate, with the help of the other man.

Having made it through, the two released the woman, before turning towards each other. Before Mikael could speak however, his eyes fell upon the man's uniform. Beneath his great coat was a white summer drill tunic, which combined with the lack of crocus emblems on his greatcoat or cap could only mean one thing.

He was a crusader.

But as Mikael inhaled to warn his fellows, the spectacled man raised his hands in surrender and quickly spoke.

"My name is Lieutenant Frikron, and I wish to defect."

…

Barbu River, Outskirts of Arendal

Ralf marched solemnly with his company down the road, his muzzle-loading rifle resting on his shoulder. As he was part of Hrym's company and therefore part of Surtrsen's original battalion, he was located in the forward section of the army's troop column. Light snow fell as they made their way down the valley, approaching the final obstacle to Arendal itself, the Barbu river. In view along the roadway ahead was a bridge, which was the door to Arendal.

At least it would be if it wasn't completely destroyed.

In plain view it stood, the stone and wooden bridge burnt to embers which still valiantly struggled to stay alive in the wintery winds. And while the Barbu river was hardly a dangerous river to ford in summer, the ice atop it was too thin for columns of men to cross, let alone horses and guns. And for an army that had many in rags and summer boots, to ford would invite frostbite and hypothermia on a massive scale.

Captain Hrym wheeled his horse about, before addressing his troops. "Sergeant Major, call a halt and fallout. I'm going to talk to Surtrsen."

The troops slightly scattered as the Captain rode off, leaving the troops to mutter amongst themselves.

"You think it was the Loyalists?"

It was Bern who spoke, his voice firm as he was one of the few unfazed by the cold.

"I don't know. It seems unlikely, since every Sami or Pagan that makes it south is another soldier."

A moment of quiet passed, as both remembered what they did in Ulfberg. Neither were clearly comfortable talking about it, let alone proud of it. But neither would dare seriously question it either.

"We did what we had to do, Ralf. We're making a better world."

"Yeah, of course. It's going to be a better world, Bern. But should we be a part of it?"

Before he could answer, Captain Hrym returned on horseback, shaking his head and laughing slightly in a slightly disgusted tone. "Set up shelters and pickets, boys. We're going to be here a while. Turns out our trusted allies the Sons of Muspell decided to burn our own bridge as part of their scorched earth campaign."

As Ralf slung his rifle and prepared for the work ahead, Bern made a final remark. "That's the difference between us and them, Ralf. We do it because we must. They do it because they can."

However, both men found those words hollow.

…

The North Mountain, Arendal

While Surtrsen's army was worried about fixing a bridge, Ásta was miles away, knowing but uncaring. Above the permanent frost line of the mountains, Ásta clawed her way through the ice and snow, trying to find a place she had not seen in centuries- the place where she died.

It was in these mountains where she made her last stand with her loyal followers against her treacherous countrymen and their Danish and Saxon allies. It was here that they fought for days on end, butchering the Christian troops by the score until the final day. The day Frida killed her, and took her crown. And it was Frida who sealed her away and entombed her, preventing her wrathful return as a Draugr.

As she reached the clearing, the took a moment to take in the surroundings, including the nearby monstrosity that was Queen Elsa's Ice Palace, currently empty, Elsa's near death having taken away it's loyal protector, the Snow Golem. The only reason it remained was that the icy temperatures ensured the snow didn't melt, and that the structure itself was sound. Regardless, Ásta thought it ironic, perhaps even fitting that Elsa had built her redoubt so close to where so many died defending against those that would have had Elsa burned as a witch.

_And perhaps that's one lesson we should have learned from the papists. Such ignorance of her own people's history…_

To that though, Ásta could only shake her head, before turning about and coming to begin what she came here to do. Producing an ancient and rune inscribed drinking horn, she begun to fill it with mead, while beginning to speak to the hallowed, frozen earth.

"I would speak to those that can hear me, in this sacred and ancient battlefield, where the Valkyries of Odin and Freya collected the glorious dead and the fates woven by the Norns themselves thicken the air! Lo there, do I call to the glorious dead, to those who remember the last toast made with this very horn!"

The Horn filled, Ásta walked into the clearing, holding the drink vessel high and spinning about, as if to show an invisible crowd about her, a crowd she knew to be watching.

"I call to you in Valhalla and Folkvangr, where you are fighting and drinking and dining with the gods, as well you should! I beckon you temporarily to Midgard, to fulfil the oath you made to this drinking horn's last rising, an oath you swore to obey past even death itself! I call you to me, my brothers and sisters!"

And thus there was silence save for the wind for over a minute, though Ásta would feel the charged spiritual energy thickening the air. She had little doubt that she had been heard and headed. Before long, cracking and sifting was heard, and corpses, mummified by ice and snow rose from their mass graves, little more than skeletons with skin and sinew. Both men and women arose, adorned with rusted armor, furs and hair both head and facial. But unlike Ásta, they were not pleased to be back.

A shield maiden stepped to the front, confronting Ásta. Blond, tall and muscular (at least for a ice mummy), this one was certainly a fearsome warrior in life, and feared little, including the monster in front of her. In a tongue that Ásta had not heard another speak for so long, the she-corpse spoke.

"Who dares steal the glorious dead of the gods for their selfish, evil purposes? What foul beast, so selfish and evil as to become a Draugr dares disturb this holy field of battle?" The skeleton paused, before carrying on, her tone of voice indicating the greatest crime of all. "And _who dares _use the belongings of a dear, long lost friend, befouling her memory for personal gain! Speak Draugr, so I may send you back to Niflheim where you belong!"

Ásta merely smiled behind her mask, holding back joyful tears, before speaking. "Linda, Linda, Linda, always the first to rise to the defense of your Queen. You were always the most loyal of all. I've missed you so!" Before the shield maiden could respond with more than a puzzled look, Ásta removed her mask and cast back her hood revealing herself to the undead warriors. Up until now, Ásta had been eating well and regenerating as such, to the point that besides her aura and glowing blue eyes, she appeared as she had in life, except perhaps a little older. "It is I, Queen Ásta 'Frysthjarta' Skadibarn of Arendal."

The undead were taken aback, before Linda responded, with clasping of her arm and a bear-hug. "My Queen, my blood sister, it has been so long!" After a moment, the undead woman stepped back, her gaunt face fretting with worry.

"But I do not understand, Asta. You were righteous, selfless, and brave! How could you become-"

"A Draugr, Linda? Because it was necessary. It was the only way to ensure that everything that we sacrificed isn't lost."

"But that would be impossible! Surely the histories tell-"

"Winners get to write the songs and ballads. We became the monsters when they wrote our history. And I was powerless to stop it. Until now."

"I worry for your spirit, Ásta, and I pray when this is done you may join us with the Aesir as you deserve. You have stood watch long enough. Now, let us right this tragedy which is the slander against us, and the Christian seizure of our home!"

Ásta chuckled at Linda' enthusiasm, glad to finally be amongst her people again. Still, there was business to be done. "That will happen in due time. But there's something far more important to resolve."

The cold corpse scoffed, before replying. "My Queen, what could possibly-"

"Linda, the new Queen, this Queen Elsa, she has control over the ice and snow."

A look of true terror made itself plain on Linda's face. "By the gods…"

Ásta nodded in agreement, before stating her will. "Yes. And she must die, before it can happen again."

…

Royal Family Dining Area, Royal Palace, Arendal

Anna turned the corner into the dining room set aside for the Royal Family, only to be surprised to see Elsa and Captain Mackenzie already there, talking in English.

"You do realize that there is a wee bit of difference between a Scotsman and an Irishman, no?"

"I do understand that Captain." Elsa said, careful to avoid dramatic movements. Still reduced to makeup and wig, Elsa had been moving about more, but not by much.

"Then I fail to understand why you think you can just dump a mob of unruly paddies on me, and expect things to be dandy."

"Because Captain, you are by far the highest ranking Officer I have that speaks _English _as a primary language."

"Oh, that's hogwash and you know it! I do business with too many of your officers to not know that plenty of them can speak and write English."

"But are they fluent? I don't need a man to _order _them around, I need a man to _lead _them. And that means a mastery of language. And that's you. Now unless you have other business, I suggest you look to your Irish troops."

"No, your Majesty." The Scotsman bowed, before turning and leaving, muttering quietly under his breath. Waiting for him to leave, Anna then waved quietly with a nervous smile.

Elsa smiled and blinked, taking a moment to reacquaint herself linguistically before greeting her sister in German. "Anna, you are a sight for sore eyes. I've been dealing with that sort of nonsense all morning."

"In our Dining Room? I thought we had a throne room for this sort of thing?"

"We do, but it's easier for Gerda to maintain my appearance from here than the throne room. Speaking of that."

Elsa pulled the wig from her head. Revealing her "natural" hair again. No longer the dark brown of her mother's, it was now lighter brown, fairly close to dirty blonde.

"Ooh, you're getting there, Elsa!"

"Not quickly enough. I may need my powers to defend Arendal, and yet the enemy are at the gate! And yet, I'm still powerless."

A moment of uneasy silence followed, as it took a moment for Anna to notice that Elsa was trembling in fear. It didn't help that Anna was still used to looking for temperature drops to determine if Elsa was upset or not. The moment she did, Anna snapped into her comforting mode.

"Hey, don't push yourself on this Elsa. I'm here to help remember?"

Elsa sighed a deep breath to bring her heart rate down, before turning to Anna and speaking. "Anna, about that…"

"Look Elsa, I am so sorry, for whatever I did wrong. I was just trying to help you out and if I messed up I can-"

Elsa's eyes widened in surprise before she cut Anna's rambling off. "What, no! You didn't do anything wrong, Anna! In fact, you did very well. Between the Irish, mobilization laws and your supervising of recruit training in our raised battalions, you've been indispensable."

"I have?"

"Yes Anna, you have. Thank you, for your hard work so far."

Anna smiled warmly, her self-esteem a little boosted. "Don't sweat it, sis."

"Now, can you please find Kai? I have a meeting with Marcks and Grimstad soon, and I want to be ready on details."

Anna chuckled before heading to the door. "I'll help you out now, but you can't keep playing that 'I'm recovering' card indefinitely."

Pausing to turn around, she turned the knob and began to open the door. "After all I literally died and you don't see me-"

A fiery blast slammed the door open, throwing both sisters out the bay windows of the room, causing both to tumble down the roof top and fall nearly a story, landing onto the snowy interior of the Royal Courtyard. Unseen to them now, Muspell stepped through the breach he had made, in all of his terribleness. Half Draugr and Fire Giant, he clutched his dagger with his right and prepared to summon more flames with his left, full of hate and anger. Today, he figured he would take out his frustration with the witch and the law on these two, killing two birds with one stone. Three, if one considered getting his freedom an additional bird.

With freedom so close he could taste it, Muspell smiled as the room and himself burned around him. "I think… I'll enjoy this kill."


	28. Chapter 28- A Hero's Strength

"When the will defies fear, when duty throws the gauntlet down to fate, when honor scorns to compromise with death - that is heroism."

-Robert Green Ingersoll

August 3rd, 1840,

Royal Palace, Arendal

Anna gritted her teeth as she opened her eyes, her lungs hurting from the blunt force of the fiery explosion. She'd pin it on an assassin's bomb, but she was once again getting the overwhelming feeling of despair, uneasiness, and outright wrong she had felt that night with Rapunzel. Which of course, could only mean a Draugr.

"You know; I'd like to go _one _week without some trying to kill me." She spoke to no-one in particular, rising to her feet in a stagger. Remembering that Elsa was also thrown from the room, Anna's heart skipped a beat, as she frantically looked for her sister, calling out her name. "Elsa!"

"Anna…" A familiar voice called out, catching Anna's attention instantly.

"Elsa!" Anna yelped, before running over to her sister's voice, finding her lying down against a snow pile, looking the worse for wear. "Are you alright?"

"I don't know Anna. My everything hurts." Elsa grinned painfully at her joke, before wincing in pain.

"Can you do magic yet? Like any at all?"

"No Anna, I can't. Why do you ask?"

"No reason. It's just that I think the Draugr is back…"

Elsa paused, her eyes studying Anna for any sign of a joke, before accepting the conclusion. "Why can't we catch a break?"

"I don't know Elsa, I really don't." Anna said, as she braced herself for the coming struggle. As the fiery glow from the window the was getting brighter, Anna wasted no time or courtesies and grabbed Elsa, and began to drag her against the snowy courtyard.

As an afterthought, Anna noticed the alarm bell had been run since the explosion, and as was typical, Guardsmen made themselves available to Anna right away. Out of breath and a little twitchy the soldiers began to inquire giving Anna no time to respond.

"Your Highness, are you alright? What happened? What can we do?"

Before she could respond, a roar was heard, as the fiery glow revealed itself to Anna as not the hooded woman but some new Draugr. With smoldering flames roiling over his body, this one was literally a large bearded man on fire, bearing a knife and a spout of flame from his left hand.

"Hey, it's a new Draugr." Anna quipped, before shaking her head and refocusing. "But yeah, Guardsmen? Can you shoot that thing?"

The soldier fumbled over himself, before responding. "Of course!" Bringing his rifle to bear, the soldier shouted to his other. "Open fire! Kill that flaming son of a bitch!"

As rifles began to crack, Anna wasted no time in dragging Elsa away from the threat, moving as fast as she could through the snowy courtyard. But as soon as she began to move, the Fire Draugr did as well. Stepping off the now burning roof, he quickly pursued Anna while ignoring or shrugging off the incoming bullets.

In an attempt to stop the flaming monstrosity, the guardsmen on the scene attempted to form a firing line between the Royal sisters and the Draugr. However, Muspell knew his powers and was not fazed. Anna could only watch in horror as the men sworn to defend her either were struck down or were set aflame, their cartridge pouches cooking off as they crawled or ran away in agony. And while a few managed to fire into Muspell at point blank range or impale him with bayonets, this ultimately did little.

Before long, there was nothing between Anna and the Draugr but the dying and the maimed, with the Draugr not slowed down one bit. A single guardsmen walked past her with a bayonetted rifle, terrified but committed to his duty. However, Anna grabbed his arm, gaining his attention.

"Take my sister and get her out! But give me your sword first!"

Hesitant, the Guardsman ultimately decided to take the course of action that wasn't suicide. Unsheathing his sword, he passed it to the princess before slinging his rifle and beginning to drag the Queen to safety. Finally armed, Anna took up a defensive position with her sword held high, scared but determined. But as the Draugr closed in, it was clear that he was not impressed. Casting a flame bolt at the Guardsman dragging Elsa away, he squared off with Anna before speaking.

"It's not her I'm after, you know. Even so, I'm not going to let your sister get away. Not because I have too, but because I can."

"What do you want, you bastard?"

Chuckling, Muspell held up his dagger, before responding. "In a word? You. Someone wants you dead, and is offering something very valuable for it."

Knowing that her death here meant that Elsa would die, Anna steeled herself and spoke brave words, ready to fight. "Do your worst, monster!"

Chuckling at Anna's seemingly empty words, slowly moved forward. As he did, the fire bolt in his hand shifted form, changing to a sword made of fire. With black smoke vaping upwards from it and drips of embers and ash steadily falling from it, the sword was frightening to behold. "Oh but I will."

With both the sight of his fiery sword and his terrifying and unnatural presence, a chill ran down Anna's spine, her legs shaking a great deal in her stance. Unlike the Guardsmen before her, she was not fanatical in her duty, but instead felt the full terror of the monstrosity facing her grasping her heart with icy fingers. But her heart and head remained committed, determine to protect her sister with her life. She didn't notice it, but her current actions washed away the white shocks in her hair, leaving it the natural strawberry blonde of her birth. At the moment, all she could do was brace herself.

"Stupid little girl, playing hero like it's going to change anything. I've killed many a "brave" and "heroic" man and woman before. And that was before I got my powers. So go ahead _Hero, _stop me if you can!"

And with that Muspell began to swing his blades violently, making up for his lack of skill in two weapon fighting with raw power and brute force. Thanks to her father's instruction in sword fighting, Anna could see the attacks coming easily, but as she began to parry she found that stop each savage strike was like trying to stop a steam engine. As such Anna used all her strength to keep the two blades away from her, giving her no chance to counterattack.

Watching Anna strain under his blows, Muspell began to taunt the princess. "Come on, Hero! Or are you too tired already!"

Breathing heavily and focused on the task at hand, Anna had no words for the Draugr. Instead she parried strike after strike, blow after blow, getting ever more and more exhausted. Finally, she made an error. Muspell's blade of fire came crashing down on her guard, raining embers as it did. Unable to deflect it this time, Anna winced from its intense heat, before she saw the dagger come in low and fast. Unable to parry, Anna tried to shift her body away to save her own life. She succeeded, but not fully, as the blade sliced a deep gash across her lower left rib cage.

Anna cried out in pain, collapsing to the ground mere feet from Elsa who sat in pain, burnt and battered from both the explosion and the fire bolt. Laughing, Muspell approached, dagger in hand. "Like I said, Princess. You aren't the first, and you won't be the last. But I expected so much more from you, Hero!"

As he raised his dagger to finish off her off, Anna noticed the dagger glowing red and trembling, as if even it knew what it was about to do, and wished to not do so. Anna raised her sword in defense, but at this point, Anna didn't expect much. But before the blade came down, a blast of ice struck Muspell in the hand, causing him to drop the blade as he howled in rage and staggered back.

Anna looked over to see a weary Elsa with her hands in a casting position, breathing hard. Anna's face twisted in confusion, remembering Elsa's claim of being unable to cast her magic. But before Anna could say or do anything, Elsa paid the price for tapping on her nonexistent reserves by passing out from a combination of pain and exhaustion. Rising to her knees, Anna readied herself as Muspell recovered, the Draugr still literally burning with rage. Having his final victory yanked from his grasp, no matter how briefly, was more than enough to set him off. The flames erupting off of him, he casted his eyes on unconscious Elsa and blocked at everything else as he moved forward, screaming. "I WILL RAPE YOUR FUCKING CORPSE, WITCH!"

Determined to save the life of the sister who had just saved hers, Anna parried his even more clumsy than normal move. And for the first time this entire fight, she saw an opening. With her blade still locked, Anna did the only thing she could think of, driving a fist in his right side as hard as she could. Expecting little, Anna was quite surprised to see Muspell stagger back and recoil in pain, far more than he had from the bolt of ice.

Has Anna caught her breath, she rapidly begun to think to herself what had just transpired. A Draugr, which Anna had sheen shot and bayonetted, had been seemingly hurt for the first time by her _fist. _It made no sense.

At this time, the Draugr recovered, clutching his ribs in pain as he breathed in a ragged motion, further catching Anna's eye and perplexing her even greater. But more noticeable than all was the look of panic in Muspell's eyes, as he didn't understand why his prior invincibility had failed him. Furthermore, Anna could see his eyes dart towards the dagger on the snowy cobblestone, desperate to end things quickly.

So Anna was ready when the Draugr leaped for the blade, allowing Anna to block and land her first sword blow on him, which while it didn't have the effect she hoped for, it did deflect him from the ancient Norse dagger. Seeing the unstoppable abomination make such a desperate move for such an odd weapon, Anna quickly seized the dagger from the snow. As she did, she heard a whisper.

_You must use the dagger on the Draugr, child. It is your only hope…_

Recognizing the voice as that of Queen Frida, Anna moved forward, casting the sword aside. After all, Queen Frida had never lied to her before. Been stupidly cryptic? Yes. Untrustworthy? No.

Recovered, Muspell felt a chill as he saw Anna had the dagger, which was replaced quite quickly with anger at the thought of his freedom slipping away so quickly from him. Rushing forward, he quickly grasped Anna's wrists, and struggled to turn the blade against her.

As such the two stood there and struggled to gain control of the knife, grunting and gasping as they did so. However, before long, a clear winner began to be seen, in the most surprising of sources: the young Princess Anna, who stood a foot shorter and a hundred pounds less in weight. It wasn't just surprising; it was outright impossible.

As the ancient, jagged blade began to push slowly but steadily towards him, Muspell could not accept what was happening. Even if they were both human, it'd have been inconceivable that the smaller Anna would over power him. Beat him in a fight? Perhaps, if she struck savagely and quickly enough at weak points. But this wasn't that. This was her overpowering him with pure brute force. Impossible when he was a man, outrageous now that he was a Draugr.

As the blade began to push against his clothing, it's second effect began to do its work, showing him for what he really was. As such, the flames vanished, revealing nothing but an old, grizzled man, fighting viciously to live purely for the sake of survival itself. His eyes wide with terror, he stared deeply into Anna's now glowing blue eyes, before demanding in a shaky voice, one final answer.

"You're human… _How_!?"

Once again, Queen Frida's words came to Anna, as she remembered her words from the other night. Like a chilly autumn wind on a bright afternoon, she let the words wash over her.

…_but the strength of a hero triumphs all. Even magic, even a Draugr._

Invigorated Anna smiled, before speaking softly in between her heavy breathing, answering Muspell's question. "How? It's like you said… I'm a hero, you son of a bitch!"

Before he could respond, Anna rammed the dagger in Muspell's heart. Muspell gasped and shuddered, before collapsing to the ground. As he slid down, his eyes remained fixed on Anna's own, silently reacting in horror as they made some dark, cruel realization, until they faded and grew dim. As the Draugr grew still, Anna took a moment to catch her breath and take in her surroundings. As snow gently fell around her, Anna realized that the Draugr's unnatural aura was no longer present, finally allowing her to relax.

As she fell back onto her rear, she turned her attention over to the passed out Elsa, who breathed regularly and was beginning to make the first subtle movements of one about to wake. Her sister alive, Anna was content to sit and recover, doing so until the first groups of reinforcing Guardsmen arrived. There they found their Crown princess, clutching a bloodied dagger near the corpse of the monster they had all seen shrug off gunfire and bayonets, who had cleaved through over a dozen men. To stand against that and kill it, they thought, took bravery on a whole other level. Not just bravery, but a lack of fear itself.

So it was that as Anna sat battered, numb, and content, that the whispers began. Whispers that would follow Anna for the rest of her life. The awe struck whispers that bestowed upon Anna her earned name, a rare and prized thing in Viking times, which was carried on to this day.

Whispers that proclaim the young 18-year-old woman before them as 'fearless.'

And thusly, history would remember then Crown Princess Anna Idunnasdottir av Arendal very simply as Princess Anna the Fearless.


End file.
